


The Reign of Queen Charlotte

by DeaconBrews



Series: The Reign of Queen Charlotte (Dictator Charlie) [1]
Category: Hazbin Hotel (Web Series), Helluva Boss (Web Series)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Alternate Universe - Dystopia, Alternate Universe - Siblings, Bad End Timeline, Character Death, Collaboration, Dictatorship, Don't Cut Yourself On It, Edgy, Embittered Character, Grimdark, Original Character(s), Ow the Edge, POV Second Person, Resurrection, Returning Home, Revolution, Sibling Love, Sibling Rivalry, Violence
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-02-11
Updated: 2021-02-11
Packaged: 2021-03-17 06:01:50
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 7
Words: 18,979
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29345562
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DeaconBrews/pseuds/DeaconBrews
Summary: Lilith is dead, slain by an exterminator. Lucifer has joined her. Having abandoned her foolish ideas of redemption and peace, Queen Charlotte rules over Hell as a spiteful and draconian tyrant, seeking vengeance against all of existence for spitting her dreams back in her face. Exterminations are a thing of the past, The Queen now handles the sinner overpopulation problem herself, while the native demons and their nobility are kept under heel through fear. Heaven stands locked in an endless stalemate with Hell, too frightened of Charlotte's totalitarian regime to dare stepping out of line the way it once did.You have returned from a fruitless mission to Purgatory to a very different Hell than you remember.
Series: The Reign of Queen Charlotte (Dictator Charlie) [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2155545
Comments: 1
Kudos: 16





	1. Prologue

**Author's Note:**

> A collab fic that grew over time out of premises lifted from older fics, random brainstorming discussions, etc, with contributions from an unknown number of anons. It could be likened to the Justice Lords timeline for Hazbin: a crucial character dies, leading to characters who are supposed to be the good guys becoming the ultimate bad guys.
> 
> Be advised: this story is a 2nd person adventure starring (you) as Charlie's brother, and contains levels of edge and grimdark comparable to 40K. Some threadcanon and thread-made characters are involved as well. Proceed at your own risk.
> 
> I'll mark my own contributions out, unless otherwise noted everything was written by one or more threadgoers.

>Charlie sighs while at her desk doing paperwork  
>She looks up from her work and at the spartan office  
>The only decorations being pictures of the friends that followed her on her path  
>There's an extra picture frame on her desk, face down  
>She hesitantly picks it up  
>It's a picture of her, her parents and...  
>Anon.  
>It's been years since she saw him  
>He left before... The Incident.  
>He went to purgatory to see what was wrong with it and to try and fix it  
>Communication and travel was cut off from the space in-between Heaven and Hell after her rise to power  
>She had ordered Octavia to open a portal to Purgatory in order to retrieve her brother  
>It was a massive failure.  
>The portal opened, flickered and the imploded  
>The resulting implosion scarred Octavia and burnt off many of her feathers  
>No other attempts were made  
>She sighs in frustration and sets the picture frame back down  
>Anon would have a way to make her feel better if he was here  
>Hell, she would even take his stupid puns at this point  
>She hopes he's not...dead.  
>She hates to admit it but she's secretly glad he isn't here, that way he can't see what she's done.  
>She finishes her daily bureaucratic duty and goes to bed where Vaggie is already sleeping  
>She carefully climbs into bed after changing into nightwear  
>She drifts off into a dreamless sleep once again

>Meanwhile in the ruins of Despair  
>The quiet streets are disturbed as a dull grey portal violently springs to life and spits a lone figure out of it before collapsing just as violently  
>Enforcer units converge on the area to investigate  
-  
>Charlie is at her desk once again  
>Signing forms and looking at petitions  
>Michael and Ezekiel want to increase food production by five percent  
"No."  
>Vox wants to air something that isn't propaganda  
"No."  
>Sir Pentious wants to build anything other than enforcers  
"No."  
>There's rapid knocking on her door  
"I'm busy. Please come back later."  
>"Charlie! Charlie you need to see this!"  
"Vaggie? What's wrong? Do we have another rebellion?"  
>"No! Just come out and see this!"  
>Vaggies tone makes it clear that she won't let up until Charlie complies  
>Charlie sighs and gets up from her desk  
>She follows an anxious Vaggie to the entrance of Pandemonium  
>She sees a couple of Overwatch troopers and a beaten and battered...  
>Anon

\-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

>Angel couldn't sleep  
>He just laid there, body curled around Fat Nuggets in a near-fetal position, listening to his quiet breathing

>He'd always have trouble falling asleep, even when he was alive  
>And now...  
>...well...

>He pulled on his duvet, pulling it tighter, until he had a loose corner of material which he could drape over the piglet  
>He sighed

>It'd been getting colder  
>Ever since Charlie...  
>No  
>...Queen Charlotte came to power

>"Queen Bitch." he muttered to himself, without much passion or ire  
>Really, he was just  
>Soooo  
>Tired

\---

>He remembered  
>The moment, he could tell, when something broke inside her, as her phone dropped  
>It had already been a tough day for her, that, just after the yearly purge, and with little to show for her efforts on the Hotel after a year

>He shivered

>He saw the emotions drain from her face  
>They were all invited to Lilith's funeral  
>Her dad could barely contain his sobs, and she gave a speech that...  
>Honestly?  
>He felt sick to listen to  
>It wasn't vulgar or anything - no disrespect for the dead...  
>But it was just so...  
>Detached  
>Removed  
>Emotionless  
>The others present, who had known her for longer than he did, looked worried

>They all should've been worried

>One month later, Lucifer was dead  
>Hell was in turmoil, as the newly crowned Queen Charlotte began to consolidate her power

>And then, one by one...  
>People began to disappear  
>Others were killed out in the open  
>The Queen began to clamp down on her shrinking opposition - sparing only a few  
>Those she deemed useful  
>He still recalled seeing Pentious, stuffed into that uncomfortable tunic, staring ahead...  
>...and tearing up...

>Cherri lasted all but one week, after she began to plot her revolution  
>She fought hard, raised Hell, and generally just kicked ass  
>It wasn't enough

>She was caught, tried, found guilty of treason, put on the Andrew's cross, and with one stab, it was over  
>She put on a defiant face, up until the end  
>But the moment their eyes met, he could tell that she was just...  
>...tired

>That hurt him the most

>After her, it was over  
>Queen Charlotte's reign was now absolute  
>Hell was reshaped in her image  
>...her warped, spiteful, vengeful image

>Hell was fun before  
>Loud, ugly and dangerous, but still fun  
>Now, it was a nightmare

>Beyond Pandemonium, everything else was a column of concrete, block after block, as far as the eye could see  
>Sinners came  
>Sinners went  
>No-one out on the streets, just those fucking Hell-exterminators, or whatever the fuck they called them, which Egghead had been churning out since day one

>He wondered how the snake was doing  
>It sucked for everyone else, that's for sure

>Vox was chained to his desk, rubber stamping the programmes the Queen had approved of  
>Trench and Killjoy did their reports like they were in a trance, barely emoting at all  
>And, of course...

>Velvet and Val were dead

>He never found out what happened to her, but Val was brought in front of all his former prostitutes...  
>...including him...  
>...gashes and welts covering his body, his two lower arms torn off at the shoulder, limping with a hunched back  
>Golden tooth pulled out, one eye missing, socket covered in a splodge-shaped burn mark

>He was gassed  
>In front of all of them  
>They watched him claw at the glass of the chamber, his screams reduced to pathetic whimpers through the thick door  
>He agonized for nearly an hour  
>The gas had been administered in a diluted form, making sure he suffered as long as he did...

>And then...

>He was told to turn right, whilst the others turned left, received their simple clothes, and got their due dates tattooed on their arms

>He was spared  
>As one of the Queen's close acquaintances

>She said he was safe  
>That she wouldn't harm him, or any of her friends  
>That he was now forever safe from Valentino, or anyone who would come to "claim" him  
-  
>She even spared his family  
>Well, she spared Molly...  
>...and left 'Niss and their old man to him

>Not the "you can only spare one" bullshit, or anything like that  
>Just  
>Having their fate rest in his hands  
>He was given a day

>Molly was doing fine, now that she was staying with Paimon  
>The old coot was one of the few nobles left that the Queen had spared out of reverence  
>He was happy to house his new guest  
>And even happier when he received another

>He still met up with Molly, from time to time  
>Sometimes, they would even have 'Niss join in  
>There was still some...distance, between them

>They never saw their old man again after that day

>When he was told of the decision, he spat  
>"Like I'll accept pity from a faggot!"  
>They all saw the recording  
>It broke Molly's heart  
>The stupid, stubborn fuck couldn't help but hurt one of them, even in his final moments

>Angel didn't care anymore  
>He was too tired by then

>He was always tired now  
>Without the drugs, the sex, the booze, he spent his days ambling in the hallowed halls of the palace  
>Reading books he didn't care about  
>Playing with Fat Nuggets  
>Talking with Husk or Vaggie  
>And avoiding the Queen

>She said they'd all be safe

>And then, one day, Al disappeared

>He had become increasingly forlorn as the weeks went on, barely talking with anyone  
>Even the radio static that constantly surrounded him seemed to die down in the last couple of days

>Only later would they find out, that Charlie had had his patron demon executed, stripping him of his powers  
>He was spirited away some nights later, and was done and dealt with  
>No trial, no special treatment

>For Charlie...  
>For Queen Charlotte...  
>...he was just another sinner

>Why she kept him around, rather than putting him in one of the blocks?  
>They never knew

>The day after, Niffty stopped smiling  
>She slowed down  
>Eventually, she just stopped performing her duties, altogether  
>She would lay about, here and there, like a broken doll  
>If she had any desire to resist, she didn't show it

>Unlike Razzle and Dazzle, who decidedly abandoned Charlie, and chose to follow Vaggie around instead  
>The Queen had them torn apart  
>Their bodies were then re-used as the prototypes for her "Enforcer" units, but once they began to break down, she just had them incinerated  
>Angel’s stomach still turned from it

>One day, he and Husk found Niffty quietly weeping in one of the now-abandoned rooms of the palace  
>She had been watching the news  
>Mimzy had been liquidated that day  
>Rosie had been gone close to a week beforehand

>"She's doing away wih-with everything!" she sobbed, inconsolably

>That was the last time they heard her speak  
>Nowadays, she just laid about, barely eating or drinking  
>Husk carried her tiny body around  
>Giving the Queen a dirty look every time their paths crossed

>Charlie just took it, stonefaced

\---

>So many people were gone  
>The few that were left either had their days numbered, or were huddled together, and had only each other to rely upon

>Angel sighed

>Things have gone to Hell  
>Double Hell  
>And if this was how it'll be from here on out, well...  
>He still had Fat Nuggets  
>And, if nothing else, the Queen respected him enough to not fuck with his pig  
>Perhaps, she knew...

>Or, maybe it was Vaggie  
>After everything that had happened, but ESPECIALLY after Al's disappearance, she had grown desperate to preserve their little group  
>Then again...  
>She yielded to the Queen, like he had never seen her do to anyone before  
>Not to Killjoy, not to Al, no-one  
>And yet, as the Queen's consort, she became... demure  
>Cold  
>And quiet  
>A mask of obedience

>The spider frowned  
>God fucking damn it, if this is how eternity will go, then...!  
-  
>There was a commotion outside  
>It roused him from his half-sleep, so, careful not to wake up the pig, he slipped out from underneath the covers, and tip-toed to the door (he no longer wore his kinky boots - the Queen practically ordered him to burn them, as part and parcel of her idea of ridding him (and everyone, as it seemed) of anything that would've reminded them of the past. Husk lost his top hat, Vaggie lost her polearm... Only Niffty was spared, but then again, she had already lost enough)

>Creaking the door ajar, he stared outside, just catching a glimpse of a pair of Overwatch thugs dragging something - someONE - along the corridor

>...they were heading towards the Queen's office, and...  
>Wait

>Wasn’t that Charlie's brother?


	2. Return

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> You're back from your self-appointed mission to investigate and hopefully reopen Purgatory, empty handed. Hell has changed a great deal since you left, and not for the better. The same can be said of your sister.

>Who is this monster wearing your sister's skin?

>She looks like Charlie  
>Her voice is like Charlie's, in spite of the cool tone with which she speaks  
>But she's not Charlie  
>She's 'Queen Charlotte'  
>If you're lucky  
>If one is not lucky, she's 'Your Majesty'  
>If you're especially un-lucky, she's just 'Master'

>And you have crossed paths with those who addressed her neither by name or title, but only by way of hysteric screams and pleas for mercy

>She doesn't dress like Charlie either  
>Charlie was a fan of bow ties and bright colors  
>Her outfits seemed to smile as brightly as she did  
>But this person wears a long, dully-colored coat  
>That wide-eyed, rosy-cheeked, pearly-fanged smile is shaded by a high-peaked cap decorated with an unfamiliar sigil

>"Anon"

>Your sister speaks as she holds up a little paper-wrapped parcel

>"Remember these?"

>You do  
>The candies you used to share when you were children  
>Even though your status afforded you the ability to lay hands on any sweet you wanted in as great a quantity as you wanted, these 'low class' little candies were what you both had craved the most  
>She's holding out your favorite flavor, and has her favorite flavor clutched tightly in the other hand  
>You accept it, but you don't begin to tear at the wrapper until she goes after her treat  
>It's such a small thing, but you're afraid to do anything around her now, lest you somehow provoke her  
>You're afraid of HER  
>The spritely little thing who once upon a time would greet everyone with a hug and a song  
>Who now wears the mask of a tyrant  
>And what a mask it is  
>She's almost cartoonish in appearance  
>Close your eyes and picture a 'dictator' costume for a masquerade, that's how she dresses now  
>Not a trace of subtlety, though perhaps that part shouldn't surprise you  
>You'd be tempted to laugh at her over-the-top-monstrous look if you hadn't witnessed all the actions that back up her tyrannical flair  
>"What's wrong? It isn't melted is it?"

>She's already popped her candy in her mouth

>No, no, it's in great shape

>Even if it had been melted, you wouldn't have complained, lest she find someone to blame for it  
>You tear the wrapper off cleanly in one piece (that had been a signature move of yours as a child) and pop it in your mouth  
>It's as delicious as you remember  
>It sends you right back to your youth  
>You hate it

>You recall every time you'd refused to play dolls with her because you were too macho for that  
>You remember every time you told her to pipe down with all the singing because you needed to concentrate or wanted to take a nap  
>You recall every time you wouldn't brush her hair because she was 'clingy' and 'annoying'  
>You think back to embarking on your fool's errand in Purgatory  
>You consider the butterfly effect

>What went wrong?

>What was the critical moment?

>When did you fail her as a brother in just the right way to start the snowball rolling down toward this nightmare?

>You lean against the railing of the balcony as the sweet dissolves away on your tongue  
>You look out at the endless acres of towering grey blocks, stretching on into infinity, that house the sinner population  
>This isn't Hell, not as you knew it  
>If you didn't have demons you recognized and trusted telling you that you were, most definitely, back in Hell, you might think you'd never even left Purgatory

>Whatever it was precisely that you did to kill the girl you'd grown up with, you did it well, and with perfect timing

>This bleak landscape, the bleak conditions everyone exists under, the bleakness infecting every inch of this afterlife  
>It's beyond the worst you could have ever imagined  
>And you're The Crown Prince of Hell, you're supposed to have a pretty good idea of how bad things can get  
>She's really outdone herself

>"Tsch-tsch"

>Charlie smacks her lips as the last of her candy disappears

>"Beat ya to it~"

>Oh, right  
>You used to have little contests to see which of you could finish their candy off quicker  
>Once upon a time you could really give her a run for her money, but you'd forgotten  
>It's just been sitting on your palate like a stone this whole time  
>Your raise your hands, conceding defeat  
>You gulp away the last of your sweet  
>You know that the bitter aftertaste it leaves is all in your head

>"Rematch?"

>The dictator reaches into her pocket and fishes about for a moment  
>She extends her hand forward and uncurls her fingers to reveal another pair of candies  
>Somewhat unfamiliar wrappers  
>Not your favorites, but instead a couple of obscure flavors  
>Difficult to find, stocked only sporadically by a handful of shops around Pentagram City  
>Even if they weren't that great compared to your top choices, you can remember the thrill you'd share whenever you managed to find one  
>Like spotting a shooting star  
>A tiny little victory against mundanity

>"Which one do you want?"

>Either is fine

>You pluck the wrapper off in one go again, ending with a little flourish this time  
>You twist and roll it, one handed, in just such a way that it happens to form a little flower shape  
>Sort of  
>This was always one of your lesser tricks  
>You can understand perfectly how it should work in theory, but you never did quite perfect the practice  
>Charlie still seems quite pleased with the little scrap of upcycled origami  
>Her eyes shine with delight

>And yet, it's all wrong  
>No, not wrong  
>Backwards  
>Yes, it's all backwards  
>You've got it figured out now  
>Before, her eyes were always alight, full of warmth, their brilliance only occasionally dimmed by sorrow  
>But now, they're almost empty  
>Dark voids, just barely brightened by a flicker of the person you used to know whenever you do something to make her recall days long gone

>It's all been turned on its head

>She reaches out to take the little trash flower you've put together and tucks it into her lapel  
>It looks horribly out of place amidst the deep colors and metallic gleam that decorates the rest of her outfit  
>The both of you begin your candy eating rematch  
>You feel Queen Charlotte's arms slip around you and she pulls you into a tight hug  
>She speaks through a mouthful of confection

>"I'm so glad you're back, Anon."

>You return the hug  
>You echo the sentiment  
>But as you look over her shoulder at the expanse of soulless concrete stretching out beyond the horizon, you know you're lying

>You know you never should have left

-*-

"I wish I was there to help you."  
>Charlies false smile falls  
>"What do you mean."  
"Whatever hurt you and made you like this, I should have been there for you."  
>"Shut up."  
"Wha-"  
>"Shut UP!"  
>Charlies face turns truly demonic in a flash of genuine anger  
>"Never fucking say that Anon! Never in my life would I ever want you to witness what I saw! I watched Hell truly burn, I watch the supposedly pure angels decend from the heavens to destroy EVERYTHING! I WATCHED MOM AND DAD DIE THAT DAY SO SHUT THE FUCK UP!"  
>Tears are streaming down her face  
>"Don't say stupid stuff like that...-hic- you're always speaking before you think..."  
>Anon quietly wraps his sister in a hug  
"Well, I'm here now."  
>She returns the hug, and this time  
>It's genuine

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This part was my first contribution to the fic. Portion below the -*- was a post from someone else.


	3. Overwatch Commander 1789

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> You are assigned a new bodyguard, an imp drawn from the ranks of the native demons who make up The Overwatch Of Hell's Populace. He accompanies you on a good-will errand to one of the surviving noble houses of Hell.

>Anon looks at the armored demon in front of him  
"Um... Hello?"  
>The imp looks at him and salutes  
>"Sir"  
>The imps voice is distorted  
"Why are you following me?"  
>"I was assigned as your guard and guide."  
"What do I call you?"  
>"Overwatch commander 1789."  
"I meant a name. Who are you?"  
>Anon can see the imp shift slightly in discomfort  
>"My name is... Moxxie, I think."  
"You think?"  
>"Yes."  
"Well, nice to meet you Moxxie."

>Later that day Anon enters Charlies office  
>She's filling out paperwork  
"Charlie, what's wrong with the overwatch demons?"  
>She momentarily halts her work before going right back to it  
>She doesn't even look up from her work  
>"If there are any problems with their performances please tell me what is wrong."  
"It's not that, it's just... I don't know how to word this correctly. Whenever I asked any overwatch about their jobs they answered without a problem."  
>Anon looks to his sister. Who is still working away  
"But whenever i ask them about anything outside of their work they struggle to even get a straight answer out. Some can't even remember their names. What's wrong with them?"  
>"Overwatch officers and soldiers go through routine reeducation. The process isn't perfect."  
>Anon doesn't know how to respond to that  
>That's how he's felt about much of what Charlie has done  
>He silently exits the office and heads to his room

-*-

>The limousine coasts to a gentle halt as you reach your destination  
>You reach for the door handle, but someone on the other side beats you to it  
>Right, right  
>You're a prince  
>Something like opening your own door is beneath you

>This never was your favorite part of royal life  
>All the absurd delicacy and deference paid to you for no reason other than your name  
>"Musn't let the mighty prince sully his delicate hands by doing ANYTHING for himself"  
>You can't say for certain that you were successful at it, but you did always try to be one to lead from the front, rather than direct from the rear  
>In hindsight, that's probably what got you rolling on that senseless mission to Purgatory in the first place  
>No matter, can't undo that now  
>You have a new mission now  
>A diplomatic mission  
>Should be easy enough

>Stepping out of the vehicle, you thank the imp who was kind enough to get the door for you  
>You move to the side to make room for your bodyguard as you hear their armor rustle and rattle  
>Overwatch Commander 1789  
>Or "Moxxie" as you prefer to call him  
>Though it has proven something of a chore to get him to respond to his own name and not his rank and number  
>He looks up at you expectantly

>"All is in order, Sir?"  
-  
>You nod  
>All is in order  
>You look over the grounds and take stock of the huge number of 'servants' occupying Prince Stolas' vast estate  
>This is the Hell you remember  
>Irregular, chaotic, passionate, lurid, colorful  
>You see imps acting like imps, hellhounds acting like hellhounds  
>Dressing like them too  
>There's not much in the way of coarse gray fabric and soul-crushing media here  
>Traditional imp sigils and dress abound, succubi cuddle and flirt, devils ring out cacophonous warrior's songs on their horns  
>It's more Hellish than you've seen in quite a long time, more Hellish than Hell was before you left even  
>At a distance, at least

>The air cools considerably at your and Moxxie's approach  
>Your mere presence, coupled with the stark regalia that your sister insisted you wear and your companion's merciless, hard-edged armor, seems to suck all the madness right out of the air, though you don't mean to  
>Whenever you draw near, demons abruptly end their conversations, stand up straight, and either cast their eyes down in deference or lock their gazes to yours in anticipation of an order, depending on their station  
>It's been long enough since you had to engage in courtly behavior that you've forgotten whatever lordly turn of phrase you're supposed to whip out to set them at ease  
>Instead, you just smile and nod in acknowledgement and hope that's enough to assure them that you haven't come to upset the apple cart  
>Moxxie remains at your side, unphased by any and all, with his hand resting on his weapon. Calm, but alert, ready to act at the slightest provocation  
>No such thing is called for though  
>No one here is interested in provocation  
>The vast crowds of idle "servants" that Stolas has taken under his care to spare them your sister's merciless regimen parts before you easily  
>The few of them who are actually employed in any real capacity are quite helpful in directing you to their master and offering you ample refreshments  
-  
>After accepting as many traditional gestures of hospitality as you can stand, Moxxie following your lead and never missing a step, you manage to make it to Stolas's court  
>The Great Owl is cooler than you remember him being  
>No teasing or anything  
>As formal as can be  
>He says all that custom demands of him, offers all that politeness would have him offer  
>He and his wife accept the worthless bits and baubles that Charlie bid you give them with grace and humility  
>They recieve the orders she's sent eagerly  
>Slight modifications to their astronomic activities, keeping a closer eye on Heaven to ensure that the Exterminator Legions remained grounded, hardly a challenge to demons of their skill

>The agreement made clear, you exit the room, OC-1789 holding steady at precisely three steps behind you  
>Octavia just happens to be in the hall  
>Like everything else, your sister's longtime friend is the same, yet different  
>The smug, sardonic smile she once wore is now a carefully calculated mask of politeness  
>The casual clothes she deliberately sought out over the 'irksome' trappings of royalty are nowhere to be found, she has on a very prim and proper outfit now  
>And she's been burnt  
>Badly  
>Patches of scale along her arm are blacker and rougher than anthracite coal  
>She's missing feathers in several places  
>You know why  
-  
>Charlie had mentioned to you the efforts that had been undertaken to retrieve you from Purgatory before you'd managed to find your own way home  
>And how spectacularly they'd failed  
>If only there had been some means of communication, you would have warned them against it  
>Instead Octavia's portal had collapsed like a house of cards doused in napalm  
>Despite knowing that there was nothing you could have done to prevent their well-intentioned efforts, you feel guilt as you look her over  
>It was still early in your sister's reign when the attempt was made  
>There was no threat of 'liquidation' looming over the avian demon, no promise of severe reprimand if she refused to pry the portal open  
>She attempted to retrieve you out of the goodness lurking in her infernal heart, because she wanted you back as much as your sister did  
>And she ended up scorched by the fires of failed sorcery for her efforts  
-  
>"Anon"

>She crooks her elbow out in invitation for you to link arms  
>A very old-fashioned gesture  
>'Prim' and 'proper' and 'most lady-like'  
>The sort of thing she once would only have done in the most sardonic fashion, flashing you and Charlie a knowing smile as she hammed it up, all of you holding back laughter at the stupidity of the whole ceremony  
>No such mirth now though  
>She barely seems aware of what she's doing as you hook your arm around hers, the rough feeling of her scars muted by the long, thick sleeve of your coat  
>It's like any number of formal occasions you'd both had to play a role for in the past, though now you're tense and awkward, rather than bored and eager to get the whole affair over with

>"It's good to see you again"

>You glance sideways at her  
>Is it really?  
>So much of...all this...  
>Well, you can't help but feel it's your fault  
>If only you hadn't left-

>"You'd have been swept up in the horror, the same as we all were"

>Octavia cuts you off before you can properly begin to flagellate yourself for your failings  
>She gives you a look

>"I don't doubt that you have the same capacity for terror as the rest of us"  
>"What's important is that you haven't had time slip down that gentle slope the way we did"  
>"You're as you were, before the new regime took hold"  
>"You're an anchor to the old Hell"  
>"To the lesser of two evils"  
>"Maybe you can do something with that"

>You catch just a glimpse of that smug 'I-know-something-you-don't' smile that was once her signature look just in time to realize that you've already made it back to the courtyard  
>Time to go home  
>You glance around as Octavia releases you and retreats back to her chambers  
>Ah, there's Moxxie, at your side, just out of your usual line of sight, as always  
-  
>You draw the armored imp's attention and gesture off toward where your transport is waiting  
>He nods, and you both start your walk across the courtyard, through the throngs of native demons taking shelter there

>"Moxxie?!"

>A feminine voice with a slight accent rings out  
>You and your bodyguard both turn to see a slender-horned female imp pushing her way out from the crowd of other demons clogging the patio  
>She's wearing the usual attire of a demon prince's servant, rather than anything more typically impish, but she doesn't have the air of deference that the actual servants do  
>You can still see a fire in her

>She moves toward the pair of you, but is abruptly stopped  
>A hellhound, white-furred and with eyes as red as fresh-drawn blood, emerges from behind her and places a paw on the impette's shoulder  
>The two lesser demons lock eyes for a moment, and the hellhound shakes her head gravely  
>The impette's stance slackens and she casts her eyes downward

>You look toward Moxxie  
>He's inscrutable  
>Despite lacking the proper appendages to communicate, you did manage to get a decent handle on imp body language. Enough to at least tell what sort of mood one of them was in  
>You're getting nothing from your bodyguard though  
>His head is level, his tail limp  
>As always

>The impette on the far side of the courtyard, on the other hand, is quite easy to read  
>Her horns are angled in the most welcoming and nonthreatening way possible  
>Her tail curls in a desperate and pleading fashion  
>She wrings her hands almost like a former human would  
>She shifts her gaze to meet yours  
>Fearful, hopeful, angry, longing, sorrowful

>You nudge your bodyguard

>Moxxie...  
>Moxxie?  
>Dammit  
>OVERWATCH COMMANDER 1789!

>Moxxie perks up immediately as you belt out his formal designation and looks to you for further instruction

>You gesture at the impette and the hellhound

>Why don't you go visit with them for a moment?  
>They seem eager to talk to you  
-  
>OC-1789 gawks at you in open confusion for a moment, but does as he's told once you begin to tap your foot with impatience  
>He leaves you standing by yourself next to the fountain and approaches the wide-eyed pair of native demons  
>They bolt forward to meet him as he draws near  
>The impette bundles him up in a double-armed, full-tail-wrap hug and begins babbling to him  
>She's tearful and overjoyed, clearly someone who's missed him dearly for some time  
>The hellhound seems to be in a similar state, though she has a rather pained expression on her muzzle  
>The shallow din of conversations all around you makes it hard to hear what she's saying, but she's enough of a loudmouth that you can tell it mainly consists of apologies

>You can tell Moxxie is speaking back to them, very softly, as they continue to ask questions and chatter at him, but their expressions indicate that his answers are unsatisfactory  
>Both the impette and the hellhound look over his shoulder, directly at you, with grave suspicion  
>The impette looks back at Moxxie, shoulders tensed  
>She whispers too softly for you to overhear, but even at this distance you can read her lips

>"Is he treating you well?"

>Moxxie nods vigorously, though you're entirely unsure if you deserve such praise  
>You've never had someone on such a short leash before  
>You have no idea if you're holding it properly  
-  
>"MOXXIE!"

>The shout of another voice precedes the arrival of another imp, in a long coat and knee-high boots  
>Older than OC-1789 and the impette, judging by his height and the size of his horns  
>He comes barrelling through the crowd and throws his arms around all three of the other demons  
>He's livelier and a bit more casual than the impette, cracking jokes and issuing teasing barbs, his tail coiled up playfully  
>But he makes time to glare daggers at you in between attempts to coax a reaction of some sort from your bodyguard  
>And he finds himself with more and more time to do so, as Moxxie fails to react strongly to anything he says

>After a bit more conversation, Moxxie suddenly jabs his thumb toward you, then gestures at his timepiece  
>The older imp looks disappointed, as do the impette and the hellhound  
>They embrace him once again  
>He returns the gesture, though he's slow to do so  
>Once they part, he rotates on his hoof with perfect form and marches back to your side, the trio watching him sullenly

>"We should go, Sir, we're at risk of falling behind schedule"  
-  
>You blink several times to rouse yourself from the stupor that comes from staring out the window of the limousine  
>The endless march of steel and stone will numb the mind if you let it  
>You reach over and take a sip from your water bottle  
>Then you look over at Moxxie  
>He's looking, well, not upset, but from his posture and the curl of his tail you can tell he's much deeper in thought than he usually is  
>You call out to him, softly

>How is he?  
>Did he enjoy seeing his friends?

>The imp stares at the floor of the vehicle  
>He draws his mouth into a thin line, then looks out the window for a while  
>Finally, he speaks

>"Their names are Loona...Blitz...and...Millie..."

>Overwatch Commander 1789 looks back toward you from the window  
>His face is placid and steady  
>His eyes however, are wide, pained, and confused

>"They were all so happy to see me..."

>His lip trembles as he continues to speak

>"I can't remember any of them."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Portion above -*- is the prompt, portion below is my response to it


	4. The Abyss

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> You and your bodyguard pay a visit to your uncle: the fallen angel Abaddon, keeper of the void that all souls fall into once they are erased. You have a request to make of him, and he has some information to share with you.

>Unlike Chaos, eternal, every system of Order can exist for a limited time, as their rigidity prevents any longevity  
>Chaos is flexible, it can take on any form (even that of Order) for as long as it likes  
>Order, on the other hand, can only be one form at once - and that one form has to encompass everything that previously fell under Chaos - or make them perish

>The equilibrium of Charlie's regime is no closer to perfection than any humanity's attempts at utopia from 20th century, with one key exception:  
>Those, regardless of how rigid the system was, were all filled with life - those that weren't fell apart, quickly  
>No matter how much control a despot had, they knew they couldn't control EVERYthing - and they often didn't  
>Some were satisfied with just providing for their citizens, and only only putting their foot down, if they ventured somewhere that could threaten the system, or upset it's order too quickly and radically  
>Restrictive, but not outlandishly so - although, others would disagree  
>Those that WERE restrictive to a totalitarian level, though, usually had some outer circumstance that they could justify it with  
>Even in that one writer's hypothetical "worst case scenario" world, the system, for the vast majority of the undereducated masses was kept afloat by an ACTUAL constant war  
>"Oceania has ALWAYS been at war with Eurasia"  
>"No, Oceania has ALWAYS been at war with Eastasia"

>To turn rough ore into metal, you need heat - even moreso if you're turning that metal into something useful  
>You have to strike the iron while it's hot, malleable, and has some flexibility  
>Once it cooled off, you're stuck with the shape you've hammered it into  
>But it doesn't end there - you have to keep the tool warm from usage  
>Make it too cold, and, though it's hardness, it's rigidity will remain, it'll loose is toughness, it's tensile strength - it'll shatter under duress, even the against something it was made to withstand  
-  
>You've seen this quite a few times, when a smith of yore, filled with hubris, attempted to free Satan from his icy trap - only for his tools to shatter like glass after they got a few hits into the stony ice  
>No flame can survive the coldness of that chamber, and without their labor keeping them warm, they soon all froze to death themselves, whilst Uncle Satanel just growled at their incompetence, and kept chewing on the three hapless saps in his mouths  
>You've made yourself busy in the past couple of days - not out of necessity, for the system operates well without you, but rather as penance  
>Not for yourself, again, but rather, your sister

>Following your visit to Prince Stolas' castle, you two had a bit of falling out  
>...actually, it wasn't just a bit  
>You pretty much exploded  
>Seeing the contrast between Stolas's realm, and the Hell she created was enough to re-ignite a fire of your own  
>A trail of powder, leading to the keg, which the flame reached the moment you stepped into the office  
>There was no blood spilled, of course - you two haven't fought since you were as young as 50

>You had an edge on her, that you've just realized was a double one - taking the blame for her behavior for your departure on that sisyphean task to fix Purgatory  
>She denied it fervently, since both of you sought the same: ending the yearly purges  
>Well, she achieved that, and in the process, made Heaven fully turn away from Hell, as "God forsaken" was the best way you could describe the Pits now

>In the end, it wasn't for naught - the Queen had agreed to undo some of the "re-education" she had implemented, before you pushed further: it wasn't enough  
>Imps suffered unfairly, as her regime was even more taxing on their chaotic nature than the influence of human Sinners was  
>Forcing them into a strict regiment, suppressing their natural skills for arbitrary ones, and the making them "FORGET" about their loved ones, so that the change wouldn't hurt as much  
-  
>Noisily and sulkily, the Queen agreed, and issued an order to replace imps in the Oppressor units with more suitable wrath demons  
>A few would remain, as personal servants to members of the government, but not for long  
>They are to be kept separate from the Sinners, as much as possible  
>Undoing their re-education would be costly and time consuming, not to mention leave Hell vulnerable, since it'll loose a good chunk of it's army

>Well, that's how she reasoned

>You both knew that the strength of the impish horde came from being able to utilize their anarchic, chaotic nature in perfect sync, making any war waged against the underworld nearly impossible to win  
>Regimenting them like that just made them all the weaker

>Though the argument ended favorably, you still kept your distance  
>Not out of any calculated step; you were just too angry to face her again  
>You'd be lying if you said that you've accepted the loss of the girl you once knew, who wanted to make Sinners reach the Heavens by becoming better - you still desperately searched for her  
>But whatever the FUCK was wearing her skin, and keeping the girl hidden has crossed several lines, and you were NOT going to let it cross anymore

>A meeting with a delegate from Heaven will be coming up soon  
>It may be your chance to begin undoing all this mess

>Though you marched forwards with big steps, you kept your pace slow, allowing Moxxie to catch up  
>He stopped using his official title, and, more importantly, stopped using the reproduction Angelic polearm he'd been given  
>Sure the assault rifle he's been given in it's place (not to mention your change of uniform to something more to your liking) had only made the pair of you resemble a military despot from a more tropical climate, it was still a step forward  
>Day by day, the imp seemed to recall more and more from his previous life  
>It started with his own likes and dislikes, but had now moved onto his hobbies, favorite places, and the like  
-  
>While you held out on the matter for a while, every time you two had to leave, you could see him perk up every time your destination came to be in the proximity of Imp City, and the palace of Prince Stolas  
>He need only ask, and you'd gladly make a de-tour there - due to your eagerness to spend time working away from your sister, your schedule had slackened quite a bit  
>You'd expected it to be filled up with new tasks in an instant, but Charlie remained silent about the matter

>A thought hit you, out of the blue, as you suddenly recalled your earlier philosophizing:  
>The tool that's been left too cold will loose it's toughness, and shatter from duress, even if doing tasks it was intended to do  
>Queen Charlotte's regime was born out of a time of heightened tension, when the possibility of war, or a civil war, were at an all-time high  
>She forged her system from that, striking the iron when it was hot...  
>...and then, she put it in a freezer, hardening it instantly

>No war to test it on  
>No civil conflict to keep it warm  
>just endless regimentation  
>"Peace is War", instead of "War is Peace"

>If she were to ACTUALLY use this tool, it'll shatter in an instant, leaving her vulnerable!  
>It'll leave EVERYONE vulnerable!

>By the accounts of the others, cracks were forming in the Queen's facade - her own precision had slackened, and though she hadn't gotten any merciful, she had been besieged by guilt, sighing deeply every time she looked outside, at the field of grey blocks that now formed Pentagram City

>You once mentioned, half jokingly, that it resembled a graveyard  
>It was the first time you'd seen guilt in her eyes, since you'd returned

>Before the meeting with the delegate, you still had to conduct a meeting on your own  
>Not one you were looking forward to, but one that'll be necessary  
>Under any other circumstance, contacting... HIM... was basically the nuclear option  
>A deadly risk in and of itself, and one that terrified you to the very core  
-  
>You've met Him once before... when both of you were very young  
>Charlie was afraid of the dark, and you... Afraid of what lied WITHIN the dark  
>As much as your mother adored you two constantly worming your ways between them on the bed almost every night, both your parents knew this would not do - darkness was an elemental part of your lives  
>And thus, one day, you were taken to the Mouth of Madness  
>The Pit of the Pits

>You're just as terrified as you were back then  
>But this time, Charlie wasn't with you  
>You couldn't hide behind the legs of your father, clutching at the fabric of his trousers, and burying your face into his hip  
>You recalled him laying a comforting hand on your head, allowing you to look up, and stare down, into The Abyss

>You've never felt their loss as painfully as you did now, and your sorrow overpowered your fear  
>Seemingly useful, but a dangerous combination around these parts

>You knew who stared back from the Abyss  
>Beside you, in spite of himself, Moxxie was trembling, much like you were, when you were a kid  
>Before long, he dropped his weapon - a crime only punishable by death on any other occasion, but you let it slide -, and curled against your leg, shaking  
>You laid a comforting hand atop his head, between his horns (briefly wondering if yours were out back then), allowing his quaking to calm, as he stared past your leg at the daunting sight

>The Darkness was... Eternal  
>Deeper than the darkest night, more distant than the lights of Heaven, and emptier than the vastness of space  
>But not for long

>A pair of eyes, bleached blind, white, yet emitting no light, turned towards you  
>Abaddon, lying eternally awake, had now turned towards you  
-  
>P͘ ̛r̷ ̡i ̢n ͠c̴ e

"I wish to speak with you, Apollyon."

>W ͢h y

>You plucked up courage

"You've probably noticed the large number of souls who have joined you down there, as of recent."

>Silence

"I came to you about them."

>...

>S ̕o̷ ̕ M ̶a̡ n̨ y̸  
>F a l̕ l̶ e̸ ̧n  
>D o̧ w n͟ ̨ ̵ H̡ e̸ ͞r e  
>W i̴ ̶t ̴h ͘ ̧M ̛e͡

>You nodded

"Did it make you happy?"

>Moxxie stared at you, suddenly, like you've just pulled the pin from a grenade, and then neglected to throw it  
>Anyone would've been able to recognize the insult in the question, but you had no sarcasm in your tone  
>You wanted to know

>T h̶ ̶e̷ ͝y̡ L̡ i ̛e͞ ̴ ͟ H̸ e̶ r e͜ ͜ W ͞i ̸t h̡ ͜ ͢M̶ ͟e ,͠ ̛ ͝I n̷ ͢ ͟ T ̴h͢ e̵ ̢ ̛D̢ ̨a͠ r͘ k n ͟e̴ ̧s ̢s̢  
>Ţ h̕ e y ̧ D̨ e s̛ p͠ ̷a̧ i̷ r , ̶ ͢A̴ w͟ a y̷ ͜ ͝ F ͜r o̢ ̴m ̷ H͘ ͘e ̶a v e͝ n ̛' ̛s͟ ̴ L ͟į ̵g h ̢t  
>A ̧w͞ a y͞ ͟ F ͟r o m̨ ̴ ͢G̴̢̢͢ ̵̢͘O̶͡͠ ͠D̶̴̛͜͜  
>L i k ͘e ̴ I ͠ D͞ ̵o

>Silence

>B u t ̧ ̡ T h e y ̶C a͠ n ̵n̷ o ͜t̷ ̧ S̕ ̷h ̨a̵ r e̴ ̢M ̢y W͟ ̴e͢ ͜i ̶g͝ h t

>...

>I ͜ ͟E n v ͠y͝ ̶ A͘ ̛n ͝d̡ ̷ ̸ ͜P i ̴t y ̷T ̡h ͞e͝ m

>You merely nodded

"You can probably tell, even from down there, were all of this is heading."

> I̷ t͟ ̛ ͞S h ͜a ͟l̷ ͞l͟ ̵N͝ o̕ ̧t̡ ͠ F r e͡ ͟e ̕ ͡ ͠M ę

>You nearly sighed in relief, but caught yourself before doing so  
>As relieved you were about that fact, you didn't want to insult Abaddon  
>He had been hurt enough

"I request that you return one of them."

>Apollyon stared

>M ͡y ̢ ̡ B r ơ ͠t̶ ̵h͝ ͞ȩ r A ͘n d̡ ͟ T ͞h e ̨ T͝ e ̢m͡ p t r̨ e ̡s s ͘ ͞A ͟r ̢e ͟ N͠ o t ̧ W̶ i t ͡h ̧ ͘ M ͡e͠

>What

"What?"  
-  
>T͝ h o̵ s ̧e͟ ͜O f T h ̵e ͟i̢ r ̨ ͜R a ̴n͘ ͠k ͟ ͢W̨ h o ͠H̷ a ̵d ͘ B̸ ̕e ̶e͜ ͘n ͘ S t ͝r u͞ ç ̴k ̸ ̴ ̢D o̕ w n̛ ͜ H̶ a d ̶ A l͟ ͝l ͢ ̢R̛ ̷e t u̶ r ͘n e̡ d̴ ͟ ͝T o ̨ ̶ ͡G̵̵͢͢ ̧͡͝͠O͟͞ ̷D̢̕

>A mixture of emotions overcame you: shock, relief, pain, sorrow, joy...  
>But it didn't matter  
>You weren't here for them

"I wish for you to release the Firebrand."

>He didn't know her name  
>He didn't know any of their names  
>As the very antithesis of God, beyond even your father, Baal, Satan, or Beelzebub, he knew nothing of this world

>Other than he wanted to destroy it

>Y̕ ͠o͞ u̸ ̵ W̸ i s ̕h̛ ̶ ͠F o r͢ ͠ ̷ T h ̵e ͘ Ŗ ͠e ͢b ͞e̶ l

"The last one to stand up against my sister, and struck down before All."

>T ̛h e̸ ͢ S͘ p̵ ͢i d e͞ r̵ ' s F͡ r͡ i ͘e̕ n ͢d

>So, he DID knew her!

"The cyclops with the bombs."

>T ̛h e̢ ̵ ͝ A n ͟a ̷r̨ ç ͡h̕ i s ͞t ̨ ̧ W̷ i͞ ţ h A ͘ N o̕ ̴b͝ ̶l̴ e̛ '̨ s ͟ ͢ ͟S o͟ u l͠

>Well, that was pushing it a bit  
>But at least he knew

>W̶ h ̧y ͢ ̸D ̵o̸ ̧ ̵ ̕Y o ̢u W ̢a̢ ̢n̕ t ͞ ̷H͝ e̸ r

"My sister's reign had destroyed what little goodness was left in this place. Now, only sorrow remains."

>You had to choose your words carefully

"I wish to undo that, before it becomes her undoing."

>Abaddon remained silent, digesting your words  
>You were worried it wouldn't work - it wasn't an integral part of your plans, but it may become necessary, if push comes to shove  
>Queen Charlotte had taken upon herself to shoulder all the weight of her reign, which, as rigid as it was, remained a fragile thing, dangerous to everyone - mostly her  
>If anyone was to break it, it had to be you, and on your own terms  
>You had to show her that, despite everything, her power wasn't limitless  
>Believing so had only proven that she was too young for the crown, yet  
-  
>L ͠i ̛t ̡t̸ l͢ e P r̨ i͢ n͢ ̛c͠ ̛e , ͡ I ̡f ̴ ͝Y͜ ͠o ͜u̴ A͝ r ͞e G̴ ̨r ̢i̧ p p͞ e ͟d ͘ ͞B ̸y ̴ D ̵e s ̡p ą ̶i̶ r , ̨Y̢ ̧o ͟u ͞ ̵A ͟r͜ ę ̷ ͡ ͡A ̴l w͠ ̡a ̶y ̨s ̕ ̢ ͞W̶ ͟e l͝ c ̨o ̸m e ̡ T͞ o ͟ ̶J͢ o i̷ n̵ M̷ ͘e

>Suddenly, you felt a certain pull from the Abyss, as if it had yawned, it's breath drawing you in  
>But as quick as it came, the pull stopped  
>With a minute sense of alarm, you reached down, and now sighed audibly in relief  
>Moxxie was still down there, by your side, body still warm and alive, consciously gripping your leg, tail curling around it upon your pat on his head

>I ̛S͟ h ͡a l̕ ̧l ̵R e ͞l͡ ͘e̡ a ͘s͡ e ͟ ̧H ̶e r

>And he did  
>A form began to emerge from the darkness, slowly filled with color that came spewing forth  
>Before long, it materialized into the familiar figure of the cyclops  
>She was naked and pale - her tattoos were missing  
>As her form slipped before you, you realized that her hair had been bleached white  
>You hoped it would return to it's natural color, but, more pressingly...  
>You got hold of her, her head drooping back over your arm, as you gently pulled at her eyelid with the other, slowly lifting it up

>Suddenly, she drew a deep, ragged breath, startling both you and Moxxie  
>Her eye popped open, still filled with color, 'X'-shaped pupil darting around, unfocused, before settling on your face  
>Blinking, she stared, a frown of confusion spreading on her face

>H̛ e̵ ̧r͜ ̨ ̛F͝ ļ ͠a͟ m͟ e ͝ ̴I͡ s̷ ̵ S̵ t ͠r o ̨n͟ g̢  
>B u͜ ţ H͢ e̵ ̨r ͜ ̕ ̨B o d̢ ͢y ̵ I s ͘ ̢Y̢ ͜e͠ ̢t͟ ͟ ͝ W ̴e̸ a̛ ͜k  
>N ̛u r̨ t̷ ̛u r e ̛ H͢ e ̸r ͞ B a c ̢k T o H ̴e r̢ ͞ ̡P e a̶ ̴k͘ ,̷ ̡ I f ͞ ͟ Y̷ o u̷ ͠W a ͢n͟ t ͡ Y ̛ơ u ͢r ̴S ͠c ̛h̸ e̶ m e T ̵o ̛ W o͝ ͟r̴ ͜k

"...Wait, how did you...?!"

>But He had already fallen silent  
-  
>You scoffed, as the eyes turned away from you, but inwardly, you were smiling  
>Unlike the others who had fallen, Apollyon was seduced down by your mother, something which she had regretted ever since, as the angel wasn't just burned, but destroyed by her deceit, and God's punishment for his broken loyalty

>Then again, part of you was certain that even God regretted his hasty actions that day - He had been his most loyal follower, and the despair his guilt ignited had swallowed him hole  
>Now, he lied, waiting in the Abyss for the sound of the Horns, so that he may undo God's Creation itself

>And yet, though a fallen Angel, He had not turned away from God  
>He still had his Grace, which is why His desire to cease all that His Lord created was one out of pity, and not revenge

>This also manifested in small acts of kindness like this - you withstood his white, empty stare back then, and with that, humored him with your daring-do, if only for a little bit  
>He still had mercy, somewhere down in his twisted heart

>As you quickly carried Cherri back to the limousine, whilst ushering Moxxie forward (no way you were going to let him fall behind, not now), you thought ahead for the coming meeting  
>Hopefully, another success would follow this one, as this was definitely the weaker victory of the two, and thus the weaker option, when it came to ending the dreary nightmare that Hell had become  
>But if not, well...  
>You'll have to prepare Cherri for the worst

>However, as the little imp entered before you, and produced a blanket to cover the cyclops with, you find yourself going into autopilot, as you placed her inside, and climbed in yourself  
>What Abaddon had said shook you more than you were willing to admit, and gave you something that burned brighter, and more painfully than ever before:

>Hope

>Hope that your parents were still out there, somewhere

>Somewhere in Heaven

>These next few weeks, leading up to the meeting, would be the longest ones of your life


	5. Fomenting A Revolt

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Angel stumbles across Anon and Moxxie carrying a newly revived Cherri

>"...Wait. Is that?"  
>"Oh, shit! Angel..."  
>"Wait, Anon? Oh fuck, what's going on? Why do you...?!"  
>"Angel, ANGEL, CALM DOWN! Look. Just... Keep this between us."

>You paused for a moment

>"You too, Moxxie."

>The imp seemed hesitant  
>He struggled in place, looking like a machine which had its gears jammed

>"I... Can't..."  
>"Holy shit, it TALKS?!"  
>"Angel, shush! What do you mean you can't?!"  
>"I... Sir... I... Must... Above you... The Queen... I... I..."  
>He began to sweat, and looked like he was suffering a stroke  
>Shit, you gotta act fast

"...Overwatch Commander 1789!"

>He froze

>"Override code: Alpha. Sigma. 56-14-58."

>All at once, the imp's limbs went limp, before slowly, as his muscles were being pulled taught by ropes, he stood back up straight, staring ahead, empty eyed  
>Angel looked at him, shocked, and began to reach out to him, but then, you spoke up

"You're not allowed to disclose anything that happened between me, Apollyon, or Abaddon, regardless of the name the Queen uses, and our most recent, and of our ongoing encounter with Angel Dust..."

>You pondered for a moment

>"Nor any orders I give to him, or you, from here on out. Nor should you disclose of any actions taken by me, Abaddon or Apollyon, or Angel Dust. Understood?"

>The imp nodded, robotically  
>The spider was horrified

>"At ease."

>And with that, Moxxie blinked, shook his head, and looked around, groggily  
>"Sir?" he asked, his body taking on a more natural stance "What happened? Where are we? Why...?"

>You stared, incredulously, as his eyes widened - with a very natural expression of shock - upon noticing the still comatose cyclops  
>"Wuh-Why is she here? Where are her clothes?! What--AH!" he suddenly began to clutch his head, whilst simultaneously leaving your mind spinning

>You weren't sure how or why, but the override command seemed to have broken his conditioning  
>You had to act fast  
-  
>"...Moxxie?"  
>"Gah... Agh...! Ah... Yes, sir?"  
>"Remember what I said?"  
>"Yeah... That I shouldn't disclose of AH!" and he clutched his head again

>"I'm sorry."

>You really were  
>Though the Alpha-Sigma code only caused sharp, but quickly dissipating migraines, most of the other override codes allowed for more lethal outcomes, should the thrall attempt to do something they shouldn't  
>You've been working hard, together with Stolas, Octavia, Paimon, or anyone you could find, to undo the most dangerous ones on Moxxie, and you got rid of the worst  
>The paralysis code was still active, though, with enough intuitive brain activity on his part, he should be able to undo it himself, eventually

>You now turned to the spider

"Angel, I know this is a lot to take in, but please... I need your help!"

>Angel blinked  
>"...MY help?"

>"I need you to come with us. We're taking her to Paimon, where she'll be able to recuperate. I'll tell Charlie that you've decided to live with your siblings. She'll probably understand, and if she'll not, I'll cover for you..."

>Still startled, he just stared at you, as you continued  
>"She'll be fine, but she'll still need time to recover..."  
>"...OK." he said, finally "...But why...?"  
>"Let's just say that she's crucial to something that I have to do. Something that NEEDS to happen, or we'll loose everything! Charlie will---!"  
>"Wait."

>You stopped, immediately  
>In an instant, his voice went from uncertain to stern  
>"How the fuck does SHE come into the picture?" he asked, looking you all over "What are you planning?"

>You decided you're not going to fuck about with wild stories or metaphors

"I'm gonna have her overthrown."

>Immediately, Angel's eyes widened, and Moxxie gasped

"And I want Cherri to do be in charge of it."

>"Wha--? Why?!" he snapped  
"Keep it down!"  
>"NO! SHE'S ALREADY BEEN KILLED ONCE! I WON'T LET YOU USE HER!"  
-  
>You stared at him like he lost his damn mind  
>He'll loose his damn head at this rate

"I'm. Not. Going. To."  
>You hissed through your teeth, shout-whispering  
"I just need her to lead the damn thing, to keep it coordinated. Rather have her do it than anyone else."  
>"But why? Why her?"  
"Maybe because I don't to end up with my head on the fucking chopping block?!"  
>You growled, causing Angel to back off  
>"OK, OK..." he muttered "...But still... Why Cherri? I mean... Wouldn't she be the one to want your neck the most?"

"Maybe..."  
>You mused  
"...But I trust her. And you."

>Angel's eyes widened, and he nodded  
>You sighed - FINALLY, you could get this thing rolling

"Moxxie, please, help Angel carry his stuff down from his room."  
>You then turned to the spider  
"Bring down your pig, and some clothes. I'll have the rest brought over tomorrow."  
>"OK..." came the dazed reply "...I can't believe I'm doing this. Hell, I can't believe YOU'RE doing this!"  
"But I am."  
>you said simply  
"Now, get moving! I don't want her to catch a cold..."  
>"Where did you get her back from, anyway?" he asked "She looks so pale..."  
>You looked at him, dead in the eye

"Well, as it turns out, there IS a double Hell."

>He looked at you, wide eyed

"And it's ruled by Abaddon. You know. The guy I mentioned?"

>He slowly nodded

"It's also know as the Abyss."  
>You went on  
"You wanna know why?"  
>"N-No, I'm fine..."  
"Right. Well, I just had Apollyon release her from there, so she'll be a bit... Out of it, for a while. Just a heads-up."  
>"Thanks..."

>The doors slammed, Moxxie settled in the back seat, eyes on the road, whilst you slipped behind the steering wheel, Angel beside you with his piglet on his lap  
"You sure she'll be safe there?"  
>"Yeah." he said, summoning his lower set of arms "Just don't brake too hard."  
"I'll try."  
>And you set off


	6. Diplomacy

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Heaven's ambassador has arrived, and is waiting for you and your sister at the negotiating table.

>Both of you marched down the hallway in perfect unison, and in near-perfect silence  
>It kind of reminded you of the inside of a jet bridge, except it had a heavy feel to it: the walls were clearly made of stainless steel, and instead of a cheap floor carpet, the ground was covered with black granite  
>Only the lights looked similar, but they were so bright and so far up, it felt like you were walking under a row of mini Suns  
>You've only seen it once before, when you, Charlie, and the Van Eldritch siblings snuck around the building, while your parents were having a meeting

>You wondered about them a lot, though, not frequently  
>If you could hazard a guess, you'd say that just one member of the family was as strong as Abaddon or God Himself, and yet, when your sister took power, they went into hiding  
>You only found this out whilst you were visiting Stolas and Octavia, and the latter offered a spot of training, disguised as "request of a display of your dexterity in combat"  
>The time you've spent in the broken mess that is Purgatory had given you ample training in combat, but that was more hasty and desperate than practiced and strengthening  
>You accepted her offer, and began weekly training with her and her own, personal guard: an impette named Millie  
>At first, she treated you with cold, feigned reverence, but that soon changed when you revealed that you've brought Moxxie along  
>Time was thus spent with combat, both magical and physical, and talking, between you and Octavia, whilst the two imps slowly rebuilt what you've eventually realized to be (to your internal horror) a marriage  
>You were no expert in matters of the mind, but it seemed to be working: the imp was gradually de-conditioned from whatever the fuck your sister had put him through  
>He still wouldn't make casual conversations, and answered tersely, but you could tell that some of his stoicism wasn't conditional anymore, but a conscious effort  
-  
>You've let Millie in on your plan regarding him, and she earnestly agreed to help, willing to be patient  
>You didn't expect her to trust your word, and even mentioned so, to which she replied that she could tell you were being sincere  
>How, you didn't ask - you were just glad you weren't alone in this  
>You also noted that he had a mildly negative response to the older imp, Blitz, though Millie assured you that this was normal

>For the time being, Moxxie's physical conditioning came in handy: with the clear wedge between you and your sister, you didn't want to aggravate the situation by showing up with a visibly freer-minded servant  
>Especially not since you became aware of just how fragile the entire regime could be

>During one of your meetings, Charlie's former rival, Helsa, was brought up  
>"They went into hiding, into the space between dimensions." she explained "The Outer Realms..."  
"Why?"  
>But you already knew the answer  
>There was no way the Eldritchs were going to bend their knee to your sister, and would've likely never approved of such a rigid, distinctly human-like system  
>Still, you wondered why they didn't stand up to her  
>"They're biding their time." Octavia replied  
>This wasn't a hypothesis, she said as if it was well-known fact  
>"Waiting for the world as we know it to end, to claim the realm after the Rapture and the Final Battle. It had always been their plan - everything else was for their own leisure and comfort."

>That last bit stuck with you, and you thought about it often - even now, when you should've been mentally preparing for the meeting

>The four of you grew up together - you and Seviathan were the 'big brothers', whilst Charlie and Helsa were your 'little sisters'  
>You had tons of fun as kids, secluded from the world as you were  
>It all changed, though, when your parents decided to reveal the outer world - Hell, as you know it - to you...  
>...during the yearly Extermination  
-  
>You still remembered the horror you've all felt - as children, your powers were wild and untamed, and you all treated that as natural, not worthy of mentioning  
>That changed that day, as the horror you've all felt, at the sight of indiscriminate, brutal slaughter - a literal genocide, before your eyes - changed into something else, for all of you  
>For you and Sev, it was cold, if somewhat guilty resignation - as children, you all wanted to play heroes, which included saving others (usually your parents, from the older, now mythical kings of Hell, resigned to demonic fairy tales from common memory)  
>Now, you realized, rather painfully, that you WON'T be able to save others  
>Not everyone  
>This hurt you more, but you've accepted it faster - and later in life, when you learned about the utopian dreams of humanity, and how those eventually failed, bending over themselves to twist reality fruitlessly, you felt your acceptance justified - though, the ghost of the old pain ran through you then as well  
>Seems like it wasn't just your sister who was "blessed" with sympathy in the family  
>For Sev, it didn't hurt as much, you could tell - but it took him WAY longer to accept it  
>He was always a stubborn kid, and you sometimes wondered if these two little facts were what led to his rather tragic relationship with Charlie in high school  
>As the initial horror passed, you could feel Helsa's emotions shut down - she immediately began to calculate and rationalize  
>She was, arguably, the smartest among you  
>Not the most creative (that would be your sister), but definitely a smart cookie  
>It was only later in high school that you've learned just how smart she was - having learned the logic of emotions, and taken it to masterclass -, and how much did it cost her  
>Growing up, she was always a shallow bitch - but a lovable one  
>Behind the facade, you could always tell there was a girl who wanted to be loved  
>You gave it to her the best you could  
-  
>She used you  
>But never without your consent  
>For all the love you gave, she desperately tried to give some back  
>However, as her and Charlie became rivals, even you realized how futile this was - she spent so much time scheming and calculating, that she had forgotten how to love

>You wanted to hug her, on that day, when you all bared witness to the grisly work of the Exterminators  
>You hugged Charlie instead  
>And Sev did nothing

>Even as his own relationship with Charlie broke down, you and Sev remained friends, and tried to salvage your sisters' relationship  
>It didn't work, and it was revealed just how badly Charlie and Sev's romance had gone, you put your foot down  
>You felt betrayed, by both siblings  
>The four of you drifted apart

>Though all of you stood opposed to "God" or "Good" (the name of the concept itself always striking you as a clear indication of bias), none of you were bad people from the get-go  
>In that aspect, humans were right  
>Children were innocent  
>Were

>Sev went from a stubborn, but gallant kid to a stubborn, abusive bastard  
>Helsa, from a smart little kid to a scheming, shallow bitch  
>You, from a loving, if mischievous little tyke to a neglectful, aloof prick  
>And Charlie...

>...dear God, Charlie...

>As you marched down the hallway in unison, you thought about what you were doing  
>Charlie marched on her own  
>And you just kept lock step with her, so that the sound of your feet would echo  
>You did it for fun, basically  
>...what she was doing with dedication  
>You were humoring her

>If there was ever a moment in your life that described your relationship, this was it

>"I've noticed you've given him firearms."  
"Wha--?"  
>Smooth  
>You were roused from your thoughts by Charlie's sudden observation  
>Pay attention, anon!  
>You're headed for a meeting that could determine the future of Hell!

>"Your imp bodyguard." she explained "Overwatch Commander Number 1789"

"Moxxie."  
>"What?"  
"His name is Moxxie."  
>"Oh."  
-  
>She considered your answer  
>"Is that the name you've given him?" she asked  
>The levity in her voice  
>As if you were discussing a pet!  
"That's his NAME."  
>You said, firmly  
"Or at least, what it USED to be..."  
>"...before you made him into Overwatch Commander 1789!" you added, mentally  
>You didn't want to argue right now, but you weren't going to let up on this

>"I... See..." she replied, carefully  
>She usually didn't tip-toe around you, so you became alert  
>"Why a firearm, though?" she asked, changing the subject  
>You suppressed a sigh  
"He used to be a marksman. I figured it would be better to utilize his strengths."  
>She hummed at that  
>"And, to help with his... De-education, I suppose..."

>For a moment, you panicked  
>But soon enough, you realized: she had obviously been observing your visits to Octavia  
>The younger noble heir had been a mutual friend of yours, and no doubt her sacrifice had put her in Charlie's good graces

"Yes."  
>You said, simply  
>There was no more to discuss on the matter

"Anything I should know in advance?"  
>She glanced towards you, stopping  
>You stopped as well  
>She got all huffy  
>"We've already discussed this!" she said, indignantly

>For a moment, you saw the past  
>A younger Charlie asking a younger you to take her seriously  
>You laughed then

>You weren't laughing now  
"I need a reminder."  
>You said, simply  
>She stared at you, before shaking her head with a smirk

>Now, she was the one laughing

>"They typically send just one delegate. Typically a medium-to-high level angel, though, never an archangel."  
>You nodded, and she continued  
>"They'll try to play it off like a friendly discussion: ask how we are, how things are going, et cetera... Usually, I just list bring up a list of executions, some production quotas we've reached, and the like. That shuts them up, and we then get to point: they offer "help", I refuse. They offer an "audience" with the "High Council", I refuse..."  
-  
>You were beginning to notice a pattern  
>"You need to be wise to their tricks." she went on "Remember: these are the people who sent the Exterminators to kill us. That killed our parents..."  
>She swallowed, though you didn't hear her voice waver  
>"...To them, we are scum. It's only now, that we've proven ourselves to be capable and dangerous, have they began to listen. But that didn't change anything!"  
>Something told you that it did  
>"I asked for an audience with God Himself, and they, naturally, refused."  
>What did you expect to happen?  
>"Nor would they offer any answers regarding the Exterminators or the yearly purges."  
>OK, that was suspicious  
>"So, until we can get some credible information from them, we'll remain cold and strong, like granite."  
>More like concrete  
>"The only thing that can keep them at bay is the threat of war..."  
>...no, the only thing that keeps them at bay is Abaddon  
>The rest of you would be wiped out of existence at a moments notice  
>The way she both over-, and undersold Heaven made you more and more concerned  
>"So, to sum it up: we go through the formalities, cut their bullshit short, make our demands, listen to theirs, threaten with war until they back down from the ones which we don't agree with, sign a written agreement, and they'll be out of our hair." she explained "Shouldn't take longer than an hour--..."

>She cut off, and stared ahead  
>Slowly, her expression went from a look of shock to a frown, then a disdainful scowl

>"Oh... It's HER."  
"Who?"

>You stared ahead  
>And had to double take at what you saw

>Ahead of you was the entrance to the meeting room - a cylindrical room, half of it decorated with Heaven's signature white, blue and gold, and the other with Hell's colors  
>Or at least, it did in the past - your mother showed you a picture of it, when you've asked  
>Nowadays, "your" half of the room was just black, with three, vertically hanging flags (also black) displaying the regime's insignia in red  
-  
>Spartan, even when compared to the minimalist décor of Heaven  
>But what struck you now is the figure sitting across the large table  
>For a moment, you thought someone put a mirror there, and the distance was distorting it  
>But as you drew nearer, you realized it wasn't a trick: across the table sat an angel that looked hauntingly similar to your sister  
>"They call her "Solagne"..." Charlie explained, saying her name like it was the name of a particularly disgusting disease "She's been here a couple of times. As you can see, Heaven decided to mock our parents by making a copy of me. Don't let her looks deceive you, though."  
>And she glared ahead  
>"She's an Exterminator."

>That caught you by surprise  
>But, as you two drew nearer, the differences became clear  
>For once, even from afar, you could tell that she was taller than Charlie, and had a more muscular frame, visible through the soft-shouldered grey suit coat she was wearing - definitely a woman's suit, unlike your sister's unisex greatcoat, which had simple shoulder marks that sharpened her silhouette  
>The cyan blue shirt visible underneath was striking, as were the white trousers  
>You couldn't see what she was wearing on her feet, but something told you they weren't high heels, or anything that would offer significant elevation  
>Her hair was shockingly black, almost absorbing the light around it, though, it did reflect it at a few points, reminding you of a sparse section of the starry sky of the mortal plane  
>This also highlighted just how pale she was - even when compared to you, Charlie, or your father, her complexion appeared almost bleached  
>This again, contrasted the natural shadows around her eyes  
>In a way, she resembled a panda  
>Though, strikingly different from your sister, she had no black tip on her nose, nor rosy cheeks, which only made her seem paler, still  
-  
>None of you quite knew where she had gotten that patch of rough, dark skin there, as not even you had it, and you were her twin  
>No-one in the family, and none of your mom's previous lovers had it, nor the small, but distinct snout that it gave her  
>Not that any of you ever minded, she still looked cute as a button with it

>At a glance, you could tell that this "Solagne" had that protrusion as well  
>Against the darkness surrounding them, her eyes stood out, much like her skin against her hair: her pupils were a shocking electric blue, which lit up as you approached her

>The light in her eyes made you realize that she was staring at you - obviously, she had never seen you before, and now studied you with... Curiosity? Apprehension?  
>It was difficult to tell

>You stopped by the table, and took seat  
>There was only one seat on her side, and two on yours - she SHOULD have been expecting two people  
>She clearly didn't expect you, though  
>Suddenly aware that you were seated, she sat down as well, clasping her hands for prayer

>"Sit kyrie eleison super animae damnatorum. Amen." she said, with reverence  
>Her voice was also similar, but a few pitches lower than Charlie's  
>It also still had the warmth that your sister's now lacked, whilst also lacking the certainty that she always had  
>Speaking of whom, she raised her hand, and so did you, both showing a Roman salute  
>"Recipit lucem ac tenebras."  
"The lucens in tenebris dominatur."

>You looked at each other, realizing you said two different phrases  
>You weren't aware that she had changed the greeting, and she sat, with lips tightly sealed, probably realizing she neglected to tell you  
>Solagne looked between the two of you, puzzled, and opened her mouth to speak  
>"Ave."  
"Ave."  
>You both said, hastily, to cover your error  
>It seemed to have worked, as the former exterminator's eyes lit up with wonder  
>"I didn't know there was a second part to your greeting!"  
-  
>"There wasn't." you were about to say, but Charlie spoke up first:  
>"It's usually reserved for Him." she said, leaving no question as to who she meant by the pronoun "For a while, we've been expecting Higher Powers to arrive, but they've consistently failed."  
>You let her go on her spiel, but still kept staring at her - what was she on about  
>"All you have to offer us now is yet another disappointment."

>Hearing this, Solagne slumped back in her seat a bit  
>Still staring at Charlie, you turned back to her - she really was going all out on the girl  
>And yet, she wouldn't yield

>"Who are you?" she asked, looking at you  
>Your sister frowned  
>"That's none of your--!"  
"I'm the Queen's brother."  
>You said, and introduced yourself  
>Charlie just stared at you, indignantly, but you just shot her a look that said "I could've just said "I'm Charlie's brother.", now shut up."  
>Solagne, on the other hand, appeared overjoyed

>"I've never met you before!" she said, before stopping to ponder "I knew she had a sibling, but I never saw you before!"  
>"He had only recently returned." Charlie explained "After spending CONSIDERABLE amount of time trying to re-open the Purgatory that HEAVEN shuttered before the repenting Sinners..." she added, with a smirk in her voice  
>The implications of what she said were easily understood - the former exterminator slumped back again

>There was something, that bothered you, in all of this  
>You couldn't quite put your finger on it - something at the back of your mind, that you desperately tried to figure out...

>"Pleasantries aside..." Charlie went on "Let's get to the point."  
>"...Right." Solagne agreed "Your demands."  
>The Queen nodded  
>"Execution of the entire Exterminator fleet, and those who were involved in their conception, creation and deployment."  
>The black haired girl blinked  
>"...A-All of them?"  
>Your sister leaned forward, narrowing her eyes  
>"All. Of. Them."  
-  
>You looked at her again, fully aware of what that meant  
>She really DID hate her, then  
>Speechless you could only frown at her as she sat back down, whilst Solagne remained silent, digesting her words

>Finally...  
>"I-I'm afraid that's impossible..." she began  
>The Queen merely glowered at her  
>"N-Not the destruction of the...! Exterminators..." she continued "Most of them have been... Scrapped... Only a few remain as strategic defense!"  
>"And we both know that the best defense is offense." your sister replied "The Exterminators weren't designed for defense. They were made to destroy. To kill, to maim, to expunge."  
>With each word, Solagne flinched  
>"...It's in their very name." Charlie added "Why would HEAVEN, with all its divine resources, rely on a rump force of machines, designed SPECIFICALLY for the eradication of Hell's residents in mass, swarming sting attacks, for defense?"  
>"W-We don't have the mortal souls to fight for us?"  
>"Neither do we." Charlie replied, simply, before standing up "All the damned souls that wind up here are kept in minimal-expense housing, reviewing the sins that landed them here, before they are executed at a given date."  
>And she glanced towards you  
>"Condemned to the Abyss."

>It took a lot of concentrated effort to remain calm, whilst she had began to pace

>"As you should know, following the Accords, both parties agreed to never utilize it's sinner, pardon, HUMAN stock."  
>Solagne winced at that last word - as did you, nearly  
>"How you solve your defense is none of our concern. If the issue is low numbers, again, that's on you - you have the Creator himself on your side, so increasing the number of troops is entirely upon you."  
>She stopped and turned on her heels, facing the two of you  
>"And EVEN IF the use of human souls was allowed, it's not OUR fault that your numbers remain low."  
>And she closed her eyes  
-  
>"According to Rule 13, subsection b: "Neither side are permitted to continue their influence upon the mortal realm," she droned "Whatever influence they may have already left, that has permanently become a part of human society and culture, may remain as-is."

>It was easy to see how this benefited Hell - your influence upon the mortal realm was always stronger than Heaven's, even to surprise of many demons  
>However, most had come to believe that this was simply an issue that arose from elitism

>Your sister smiled  
>No, smirked  
>And boy, was it an ugly smirk  
>Rarely have you seen so much condescension behind one - with the handy exception of Katie Killjoy's (not that she was smirking all too much these days)

>"It's not our fault..." she began, venomously "That your efforts at "recruitment" have backfired. After all..."  
>And she looked to the side with mock sadness, while doing a bit of mock finger-counting  
>"It wasn't our fault that every act done in the name of Good or the name of GOD..."  
>Again, the emphasis made the ex-exterminator flinch  
>"...every great scheme and grand project, every fight and war, every crusade, every revolution became nothing more than an ABATTOIR of Sin..."

>This was also true - humanity had a tendency to do the worst, with the best of intentions - and not even the name of God Himself could escape this foul twist of fate  
>However, you considered: even now, millions from across the world wound up down here...  
>...and it seemed that Heaven still suffered from low numbers...

"And this also begs the question..."

>Both of them looked at you - you haven't spoken in a while

"...Why did Heaven shut down Purgatory?"  
>You asked  
"I know it had to do with humanity's World Wars, when the distinction between righteous and wrong became muddled, but still! Everyone can tell how horribly that backfired!"  
>And you motioned vaguely towards the air, indicating the predicament of the two sides  
-  
"I've been there."  
>You went on  
"It's not in a good shape, but it can still be repaired! It may require some effort from both sides, but--!"  
>"Out of the question!"  
>"Out of the question."

>You stared, wide-eyed, at the two women  
>Both also shot a surprised look at each other, before Charlie turned away with disdain, and Solagne turned towards you with a guilty look

"But why?!"

>"They've made their bed, now, they can lie in it!" your sister responded, with a huff  
>For her, it was all reduced to a big game of tit-for-tat  
>Childish

>And that was when it hit you...  
>...this entire thing, this dictatorship?  
>No matter the maturity and care it took to make it succeed, and no matter the extraordinary effort it required to keep going...

>...this was still just a petulant child's stubborn response

>In all honesty, it reminded you of your father's rebellion, when your mother first told about it - even then, it struck you as something childish  
>Something that...  
>...Charlie...  
>...would...  
>...do  
>...

>A horrible thought manifested within your mind, but outwardly, you remained stoic  
>This allowed Solagne to speak up:  
>"While I cannot speak for everyone in Heaven..."  
>"Funny that, considering that's your job!" your sister responded, mordantly, but a frown from you cut her short  
>"...but it is, by the Accords themselves, that we're not allowed to "exchange" human souls." the Heaven-sent explained "I believe it was to prevent bartering for souls more suited for combat between the two sides."  
"But there's no point to this, since neither of us can USE human souls!"  
>You exclaimed, and Solagne nodded  
>"We've been hoping to amend this rule." she replied "For a long while."  
>And then, for the first time, she frowned - and at Charlie, to boot!  
>"However, all our previous efforts towards the matter have been thwarted."  
>The Queen just scoffed  
-  
>"And why would we allow that?" she asked "If one rule is changed, all the others could be! Before long, the entirety of the Accords would be rendered null and void! THEN, you could attack us at any time!"  
>"We'd never do that!" Solagne retorted, with indignation "It has been told in the Scriptures, that the Final Battle would be announced with--!"  
>"With Uncle Gabriel's Horn solo, blah-blah-blah! I know how it goes!" Charlie spanned back "But who's to say WHEN you'd decide to do so! And, again, why should I care?!"  
>"Because you wanted to redeem Sinners in the first place?"

>Both you and Charlie froze up  
>You didn't expect that  
>How did she know?

"How did you...?"  
>"It's never been a secret before Heaven." Solagne replied, with an ounce of pride in her voice "They were all eagerly awaiting what would become of your Hotel, and despaired when they saw what you've become!"

>Though momentarily startled at that, your sister just scoffed again  
>"Well, if they cared so MUCH, they've could've helped with it! But it doesn't matter..." and she shot a look of utter disdain towards her counterpart "I've grown out of such childish fantasies!"

"...What the HELL HAPPENED TO YOU?!"

>Both of them jumped, and looked at you in shock  
>You slammed your fist down on the table with enough force to split the wood in half  
>It hurt like a motherfucker, but you didn't care!  
>This has gone on for too long!

"..."Childish fantasies"...?!"  
>You asked  
"Are you fucking serious?! What, because you acting like am bad "Big Brother" rip-off isn't? Turning all of Hell's cities into a socialist housing estate ISN'T?! TORTURING PEOPLE WHO ARE GOING TO DIE ANYWAY ISN'T?!"

>You stopped, gasping for breath  
>You felt like screaming  
>Crying  
>Laughing  
>Instead, you just swallowed air  
-  
"You took over, and turned Hell, with all it's chaos, into a fucking FIVE-YEAR-OLD'S version of it! Everything has been remade to make it easier for YOU to control it! And you don't care about ANYONE but yourself, and those who could still muster some care for you! It's SICKENING to watch!"  
>You spat  
"For all the effort you've put in, and all the power you've acquired, you're still nothing more than a STUBBORN, SPOILED BRAT! When things didn't go your way, you threw a TANTRUM, and now, that you have a chance to get what you've ACTUALLY wanted, you're so deep in your own BULLSHIT that you just refuse to see it as an option!"

>You could see the anger on her face, but you didn't care anymore

"You threw away EVERYTHING, and now, you're too much of a PETULANT CHILD to pick it up again!"

>"..."option"?!" she asked, quietly, before letting it rip "I DID EVERYTHING TO GET THEM REDEEMED! EVERYTHING! I BENT OVER BACKWARDS JUST TO GET THESE GOOD-FOR-NOTHING SACKS OF SHIT TO THE PEARLY GATES!"  
>She gasped for breath  
>Neither of you had the air - all had been pushed out by rage

>"Ah-And what does Heaven do, for all my efforts?" she asked sarcastically, before shooting a death glare at Solagne

>"...They KILL our PARENTS!"

>"I ONLY KILLED HE--!"

>You turned, and stared, wide-eyed, at the exterminator  
>She had her hands clasped upon her mouth, and stared back at the two of you, eyes as wide as saucers  
>Was it regret in her eyes, or guilt?  
>You didn't care  
>A dark cloud descended upon you

"W̸̨ ̶̧h̶͟͠ ̕͡͝a͟ ͢͜͢t̸̡͜"

>Solagne shuddered  
>Beside you, Charlie let loose a dark, crazed laugh  
>"I... KNEW IT!" she shrieked "I... Always... Knew it..."  
>You looked at the blackhead, who could only shake her head

"S̢̧o̶͞la͞g̸͞ņ̵e.͢..͝"

>You began causing her to stare back at you, frozen  
>You mustered some calmness back into your voice

"Wha̶t̕.̢.. Did you do?"  
-  
>For a while she just stared ahead  
>Then, squeezing her eyes shut, her entire body tensing up, she nodded, and lowered her hands:

>"I was... Sent out on special, solo missions..." she began "Not the same time as the other exterminators, but after the main purge... I was there to... Gather intel..."  
>She opened her eyes  
>"I knew about you... All of you... Lucifer, Charlie, the Van Eldritchs, Vaggie, Angel Dust... You..."

>She paused

>"...And Lilith."

>There was a long silence  
>You motioned her to continue, the very act startling her

>"One night... A-After the purge..." she began, with a shaky voice "I was flying over Pentagram... I saw... A woman... On a balcony..."

>You recalled, how your mother would sometimes wait for your sister's signal to mark the end of the purge  
>Waiting for the fireworks

>"Suddenly, the sensors of my mask flashed, indicating her to be a high-priority target! I... Didn't think... No!"  
>She stopped, shaking her head  
>"I... DID... Think!" she declared, through serious, conscious effort "I thought that if I... Took her down... They'd be proud of me... That she would--..."

>But she cut off again, and fell silent  
>You both stared at her, emptily

>"When... She saw me..." she continued, after a while "She... Didn't run... Or defend herself... She..."  
>She choked, before continuing, her voice grated  
>"She... Opened her arms... As if she..."  
>She swallowed  
>"...Expect a hug..."

>It hurt  
>God, it hurt

>"I... Stabbed her... With-With my spear... She... Stopped... Smiling... A-And..."

>No  
>You didn't want to hear any of it  
>No more  
>But you did

>"She reached up, and... Took of my mask... And I saw... How... Beautiful... She was..."  
>She choked back another sob, and steadied her breath  
>"She... Caressed my face, and... Just stared at me, surprised..."

>You didn't know what to say  
>Think  
>Or feel  
>just emptiness  
>And a deep, gnawing pain, that slowly turned the darkness within you RED  
-  
>"I flew away." she continued, like a woman possessed, her long, black wings - larger than you've seen on any exterminator - manifesting behind her "I flew far away. I wanted to die. Oh, how much I wanted to die. To not exist. To never have been conceived."

>"You SHOULD have died." your sister added, dark and hollow  
>You almost nodded  
>Almost

>"A-Afterwards..." the exterminator went on "All exterminations were called off. Permanently. God's orders...  
>She took a deep breath  
>"There was an investigation... And then..."

>And suddenly, her expression calmed and her voice smoothened out  
>She turned and stared, right at Queen Charlotte, who's mad smile froze upon her face  
>"And then..." she repeated, calmly

>"Lucifer died."

>Silence  
>Those last two words hung in the air, impregnating the sudden, deafening silence with a weight that you were very afraid would crush you  
>Slowly, you turned towards your sister, who's smile had just began to fade  
>She just... slumped, as if all strength had left her  
>With another deep breath, Solagne continued

>"I was the one who killed your mother, Lilith, Queen of Hell... But..."  
>And she allowed herself a small, nasty smirk  
>"Everyone in Heaven knows just HOW Queen Charlotte rose to power."

>You didn't need more confirmation  
>You wanted to end this, ALL of this, RIGHT NOW  
>Everything, everything in your life, every achievement and mistake, every step forward and back, everything you've learned, here, from your parents, in school, and finally, in Purgatory, had just come to ahead

>The pulsing, reddish darkness within you was pushed out by a burning light  
>Was it the Will of God? Your father's legacy as the "Lightbringer?"  
>You didn't care  
>You've seen the Abyss  
>You held it's gaze

>You knew what to do

"You mentioned that our demands were impossible."  
>Your voice roused Charlotte from her stupor, and had the exterminator's eyes upon you

"You explained why Heaven won't destroy it's remaining exterminators."  
>You went on  
"But what about the others? Why can't you get rid of those who designed them? And those who conceived them?"

>Solagne bowed her head  
>"Those involved with the creation of my siblings... The other exterminators... Were all high-ranking members of Heaven's hierarchy. Removing them from their position would only throw the Council into chaos and anarchy..."

>As always, it came down to politics

>"As for the one who conceived it..."  
>She paused, closing her eyes, and muttering to herself something that you couldn't make out  
>She then looked up, determined  
>"The one who created the Exterminators... The Taskmaster, second only God, and on par with Archangel Michael in rank, has been cast down from Heaven, into the deepest pits of Hell for her hubris."

"But who WAS she?!"

>She swallowed, and uttered a small prayer  
>Then...

>"My birthmother, Archangel Adina!"

>Charlotte looked up, shocked  
>You merely nodded, having expected that

"I've visited Abbadon."  
>You said  
>Both Charlotte and Solagne shuddered at the name

"He told me that our parents have "returned to God." And knowing mom and dad, this wasn't in the limp-wristed sense that humans talk about it!"

>You stood up straight

"Messenger of Heaven!"  
>You addressed her  
"Here's my offer: we shall allow you a visit to your mother, and with her, grant you audience with Satan himself!"  
>She stared at you, shocked  
"And in return..."

>But you faltered  
>For all your sudden zeal, it still felt too much, and you were beset by doubt  
>But you pushed it aside

"And in return..."  
>You repeated, on a calmer tone

"We demand a visit to our parents in Heaven, and an audience with God!"


	7. Solagne

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> While preparing to escort her down to The Ninth Circle to see her mother, you have a moment to talk to the exterminator who killed yours.

>You're not really running late, per-se, but you've probably kept them waiting somewhat, so you put a little extra hustle in your step  
>Moxxie is already out there with Heaven's ambassador  
>Though this is meant to be a strictly peaceful occasion, angels were still classified as the enemy, and "Standard Operating Procedures" dictated that he needed to give her a quick once-over before any member of the nobility could interact with her  
>Although your and Millie's efforts had managed to dredge a good deal of the real demon up out of the mindless automaton he'd once been, he'd been very insistent that the rules needed to be followed to a T here  
>The way Millie explained it, that wasn't out of character for him; he was always something of a straightlaced fellow

>You pause at the corner to make sure you're presentable  
>Your ridiculous hat is on straight  
>The palmful of medals that Charlie has added to your coat for some reason are shining  
>Good enough

>You strut around, head held high, trying to project that you have arrived exactly when you meant to, and not a second later  
>Solagne is sitting beside Moxxie, speaking to him too quietly to hear at this distance  
>They both seem to be in a pleasant enough mood  
>Surprising, perhaps, for Solagne, given the circumstances, but then again, maybe she's a glass-half-full sort  
>Oddly though, her overcoat has been cast aside, and she appears to be in the midst of buttoning her cyan undershirt back up  
-  
>They both notice you just as you draw near  
>Moxxie straightens himself up and greets you with a crisp salute  
>Solagne joins him once her clothing is back in order and offers a nod of acknowledgement  
>You throw a salute back at the both of them  
>You have to fight down the instinct to bow  
>In your youth you'd gotten very good at it, able to convey all sorts of respect and reverence and classiness with the simple motion, earning regular compliments from the parents of other princes and princesses  
>But it had been made clear to you that your lineage didn't bow to anyone, for any reason, anymore

>Solagne approaches you  
>Moxxie follows, but remains at a respectful distance, allowing you to begin an idle stroll through the palace in relative privacy  
>Charlie has yet to arrive  
>Probably by design  
>She's made her contempt for her angelic counterpart quite clear  
>Deliberately wasting her time is probably just one more act of vengeance against her  
>You look to her and start trying to fill the empty air

>How was Moxxie as a conversation partner?  
>You know from experience that he can be a bit stiff  
>She shrugs

>"I didn't mind it so much..."

>She runs a hand over her long, jet-black braid

>"I'm not sure if this is correct to say, but I rather like imps. They're kind of like...unholy cherubs, I suppose"

>Solagne seems to pick up on the odd look you're giving her

>"Is something wrong, Your Highness?"  
-  
>Ugh  
>Well, first of all, she doesn't need to address you by title  
>You do have a name

>"Okay, Anon"

>The smile she shines at you with that statement compels you to grant one in return  
>In spite of who she is  
>What she is

>In spite of what she did

>You can't help but feel a certain softness toward her  
>It's more than just some thoughtless, irrational instinct  
>It's not just the fact that she looks more than a bit like Charlie  
>It's the fact that you can see little reflections of your sister, for better or worse, in the pallid, blue-eyed angel  
>She has an air of mercy to her, of forgiveness, and an eagerness to please, just like Charlie used to  
>And guilt  
>Intense guilt and regret, like what you currently see in Charlie when she forgets to keep it buried  
>You see it in Solagne whenever she looks you in the eye for too long  
>There are moments when she hates herself at least as much as Charlie does  
>But this isn't one of them

>"Well then, Anon, is anything wrong?"  
-  
>Ah, right  
>Well, you couldn't help but notice that she was fussing with her clothes as you'd arrived  
>You certainly hope she knows that even if she thinks he's cute, Moxxie is a married man, and that counts for something even down here  
>You let a little bit of a tease sneak into your voice  
>She'd better not be up to anything

>Solagne slows to a halt and her expression slackens  
>From a faint but genuine smile to something cool and pained

>"We were talking about our respective tours of service"  
>"Just showing him something I thought he'd be interested in"

>You can think of a dozen double entendres to hurl back at that statement, but her tone has robbed you of your humor  
>Her sapphire eyes stare unflinchingly into yours

>"Would you like to see as well?"

>Her hands are in motion before you can actually decide if you want to jump down this rabbit hole  
>A few buttons undone, she pulls her collar off to the side and turns her head  
>You try as best you can to keep from reacting, and strongly suspect you're failing

>The angel has a sort of...electronic...plug...laying flush against her ivory skin  
>Riveted, well-polished silvery metal, with assorted coppery and crimson filaments bundled up in the center  
>She turns her head to the other side, revealing a matching implant on the opposite side of her neck  
>Both are ringed with thin bands of angry, red scar tissue  
>She offers an explanation

>"This is where the exterminator armor connects to you"  
-  
>She begins to rebutton her shirt and close her collar back around herself

>"I've got a couple more"  
>"Two at the base of my wings, and four more on my legs, for the enhanced locomotion suite"  
>"A bunch of little ones in my wrists and up my arms, for the assisted combat engine"  
>"They all have to be anchored to the bone, otherwise the life-support system won't work right"  
>"I think one of the technicians may have come up with another design that would have been a lot less invasive..."

>Solagne allows her hands to fall back to her sides

>"...but that would have added too many extra steps to the manufacturing process elsewhere, so the idea was discarded."

>You know you're gawking at your sister's raven-haired doppelganger, but you can't help yourself  
>What the fuck are you supposed to say to this?  
>Does 'I'm sorry' even come close to being adequate?

>"You don't have to be sorry. You didn't install them."  
>"I'm quite used to them anyway"  
>"They're really not difficult to keep clean"  
>"They don't hurt too badly most of the time"  
>"Sometimes I forget they're even there"

>By all the nine circles...  
>What an existence  
-  
>"Anyway, if you don't mind my asking, is OC-1789 making good progress?"

>Heaven's ambassador is on to the next topic without a second thought

>Her question has to rattle around in your mind for a bit before you realize what an odd thing it is for her to ask  
>Progress?  
>Just what sort of progress would he have to make?

>"You're de-programming him, aren't you?"  
>"Surreptitiously"  
>"Trying to keep Queen Charlotte from catching on"

>You gape at her once again  
>Despite the loosening of the shackles on his mind, Moxxie was still a good enough actor to pass for a brainwashed grunt around Charlie  
>At least for a time, before her surveillance network, or whatever means of monitoring your activities she had, blew the whistle on what you were doing...and then she shrugged it off as if it were nothing...  
>But Solagne had seen through the facade after just a few minutes alone with him?  
>How?  
>Are you actually that transparent? That obvious? So that even a stranger can tell what you're up to at a glance?  
>The raven-haired angel smiled sadly, knowingly

>"He reminds me of myself"

>How so?  
>The angel looks back at the imp  
>Now that you're not going anywhere, he's busied himself with making sure his sidearm shines like a mirror  
>He doesn't even seem to realize you're talking about him

>"He's...confused."  
>"Upset too."  
>"It's a jarring experience, suddenly remembering that you're an individual, after living like a machine for so long."  
-  
>Solagne shifts her piercing blue gaze back to you

>"That's what we were: angels made to act like machines."  
>"The first exterminators were unreliable. They were just drones. They were known to go berserk and target things they weren't meant to target."  
>"Eventually they realized that the task was beyond a mere machine. They needed something with a soul, but that could still be programmed and controlled like a machine."  
>"That's where we came in."

>You gulp as your process her meaning

>She was 'Re-conditioned'?  
>'Programmed'?  
>...Brainwashed  
>To kill indiscriminately?  
>She, the child of an archangel?

>Solagne nods

>Didn't her mother have anything to say about that?

>"It was her idea."  
-  
>You're certain she must notice the look of horror that you feel overtaking your features, but she breezes past it

>"You bodyguard, your...Moxxie was it? He's starting to remember, isn't he?"

>Yes

>"He's remembering pleasant things, right? What he likes to eat, to wear, his favorite places to be?"

>...yes

>"That's the first stage."  
>"The next stage could be much more difficult."  
>"Programming someone is a...damaging process. And unstable."

>The angel turns around, her massive wings suddenly manifesting and tucking in around her small frame protectively

>"When it starts to come undone, it can be rather trying."

>Solagne sighs

>"There was no one there for me."  
>"When...when it happened."  
>"When I..."

>When she killed your mother

>The angel nods silently

>"That was when it started to break down for me"  
>"The shock of my crime was enough to knock my mind loose"  
>"When I got over it, the rest of me started coming back"  
>"I started to remember who I was"  
>"But I had no one to help me"  
>"Then I started remembering all the other terrible things I'd done"  
>"All the things I wished I could undo"  
>"I couldn't stand to fight anymore"  
>"But to them, that just made me a defective weapon"  
>"They didn't care why I'd stopped working, they just wanted me fixed"  
>"I had to come to grips with it alone"

>Solagne turns back around to face you

>"It was agony"

>She chokes a bit on her words, and takes a moment to regain her composure

>"That imp, Moxxie, he's going to start remembering things he'll wish remained forgotten"  
>"Be there to take care of him"  
>"Promise me you'll take care of him"

>Out of every way you'd considered a conversation with this former warrior angel going, this hadn't been among them  
-  
>"PROMISE ME"

>Solagne steps toward you  
>Her eyes glow with harsh, blinding light  
>Her halo suddenly grows jagged, like a bundle of razor wire

>It's shocking  
>Frightening  
>But not unfamiliar

>She's just worked up

>This is just like how Charlie would morph when her emotions would run hot back in the day, letting her horns out and her teeth sharpen  
>Or heck, even yourself when you got too excited, allowing your claws to extend and your eyes to go from the faint red and silver you'd inherited from your mother into hideous pools of crimson

>But Moxxie doesn't know that  
\---  
>"FREEZE!"

>Moxxie somehow found his way in between you and Solagne in the past few seconds  
>He holds his handgun aloft  
>Aiming right between Solagne's eyes  
>His jaw is set with grim determination

>"Give me an excuse"  
>"Give me one good reason, angel filth, and I'll send you down to The Unmaker early"  
>"The Void is hungry"  
>"And you're just the right size"  
-  
>Solagne shifts back to her natural form and takes a step back, then another  
>She slowly raises her hands up in surrender  
>Your bodyguard continues to glare at the raven-haired angel  
>You can see his muscles tense, and his grip on his weapon grow tighter  
>You reach down, very slowly, and place your hand on his shoulder

>Moxxie...  
>Moxxie  
>It's okay  
>She didn't mean anything by it  
>She's not trying to hurt me  
>...Moxxie?

>You sigh to yourself

>Overwatch Commander 1789?

>The imp turns and meets your gaze  
>Weapon still at the ready  
>His tawny eyes are empty, hollow  
>The conditioning  
>At least this part of it  
>Is back, and in full force

>You bring your mouth close to his ear and whisper an override command  
>A minor one  
>Just enough to take him out of attack mode and make him holster his weapon  
>You don't like using them, but it seems to be necessary now  
>At the very least, this is one that won't hurt him, just make him obey  
-  
>Moxxie goes all but limp  
>He neatly tucks his weapon away  
>Then he just stands there  
>One...  
>...twooo...  
>...threeeeee.....

>The imp blinks several times as he comes back from the stupor you inflicted on him  
>He looks at you  
>With recognition, familiarity  
>Maybe even a bit of warmth  
>A warmth that he shares with Solagne when he looks over to her, now covering her mouth with both hands in terror as she looks down at him

>"All is in order, Sir?"

>You release a breath you didn't know you were holding

>Yes, all is in order  
-  
>All is in order  
>In perfect order  
>So how about he take a little break?  
>He's been on his hooves since before breakfast  
>He can take ten  
>Take that new phone he's been issued and ring up Stolas' manor  
>See if Millie can spare a few minutes to tell him about how her day's been  
>Keep it light, don't say anything that Vox might have to report

>He nods in affirmation, then offers Solagne a salute before returning his attention to you and giving a bow  
>Then he's gone, no doubt counting out his reprieve from duty by the second

>"Angel filth..."

>Solagne muses under her breath

>Well, fuck yourself sideways

>This got awkward in a hurry  
-  
>"... angel filth..."

>Fuck

>What are you supposed to do now?  
>What kind of apology will suffice here?

>Solagne turns back toward you, plainly distraught  
>Her ebony wings pull in even closer, enveloping her in a dark, feathery cocoon

>"He really is just like me."  
>"His programming is the same as mine."

>Solagne's eyes begin to glisten

>"We had to be merciless."  
>"We had to hate."  
>"They taught us so many terrible things to call you."  
>"To make it seem like all the hurt we were doing didn't matter."  
>"And they would just come spilling out of our mouths without even thinking."

>"I know he didn't mean it, but..."

>"But......"

>But it still hurts?

>Solagne nods

>"It's not what he said."  
>"It's...knowing that I would once have done the same."  
>"It's not fun, remembering how wicked you were."

>You can imagine

\---

>You never could stand to see your sister cry  
>Even if she'd bugged you to the point of snapping at her for her obnoxiously cheery antics, the moment you saw tears marring her cheeks your anger would evaporate  
>To see her in pain was a terrible, terrible thing  
>You know that this woman isn't your sister  
>You know that this person is practically a stranger to you  
>You know that you have every reason to hate her with every fiber of your being

>Yet you do the unthinkable

>You hold your arms out  
>You, a demon prince, reach out to hug an angel  
>An exterminator no less

>Solagne stares at you with confused, tearful eyes  
>You realize the stupidity of what you're offering and start to take a step back  
>Then you feel her arms around you  
>Followed by her wings, enveloping the both of you  
>She shudders through a sob

>You can't think of anything helpful to say to her  
>If it were Charlie, you'd try to conjure up a happy shared memory or hum a tune that she found comforting  
>But this isn't Charlie, it's some color-negative twin of hers that just happens to be as miserable and broken as she is  
>You sigh into her shoulder  
>What an existence indeed  
>What an existence we're all enduring

>Solagne spends the next moments in silence  
>She seems much more collected  
>Her smile is still nowhere to be found  
>But at least she no longer looks like she's about to collapse into sobs in the middle of the floor  
>She looks you in the eye inquisitively before she opens her mouth again

>"You're an odd one, if you don't mind my saying so."

>Pardon?

>Parting from you, Solagne has to take a moment to contemplate her own meaning before she speaks again

>"You're...not like your sister."

>No, you're a lot like Charlie, at least who Charlie used to be  
>You both had the same dreams for a time, just different ideas of how to achieve them  
>...you may have had a bit of wanderlust as well, but you shared her hopes  
>You used to have a lot in common

>Continuing to converse with the angel, you think back to what Octavia said, about being swept up in this mess like everyone else  
>You wonder how all this would have panned out if you had been here for it from start to finish, rather than simply dropping into the midst of the aftermath  
>Could you have stopped Solagne from...completing her mission?  
>How?  
>And if you failed to stop her?  
>Would that failure have set the same vengeful fire in your heart that it set in Charlie's?  
>Would you have been sitting at the table demanding, as you looked her in the eye, that Solagne and all her ilk be executed with the same sort of fervor as your sister?  
>You can't say for sure  
>You'd like to think not, but you just can't be sure you don't have the same blackness in your heart that's eating away at Charlie

>"...what do you really stand to gain, letting me see my mother?"  
>"An angel hasn't set foot in Satanel's realm since The Fall."  
>"Why grant me the privilege out of anyone else?"

>You shrug  
>You've got your reasons

>"It's called an equitable trade."

>Solagne sucks in a sharp breath, but keeps from audibly gasping

>Charlie stands some distance away, booted feet shoulder width apart, hands folded behind her back  
>The usual long braid tucked beneath her cap, the usual morose look marring her features  
>She looks in your direction

>"I'm sure you're quite confident in your abilities, Anon, but you really should keep your bodyguard closer at hand when the enemy is right under your nose."

>Moxxie peaks out from behind your sister and proceeds sheepishly, stiffly, carefully back to your side  
>You try to catch his tawny eyes as he trots over to surreptitiously let him know he's not in any trouble  
>You manage it, tilt your head ever so slightly in Charlie's direction, and roll your eyes as subtly as possible  
>His back to his monarch, Moxxie lets his own eyes roll just a tiny bit more vigorously  
>You breath a silent sigh of relief  
>He shook the remnants of his conditioning off pretty quickly this time  
>You'd call that significant progress

>Charlie glares a few daggers at Solagne before she continues

>"I hope I haven't kept you waiting too long."

>Her voice drips with sarcasm

>"I was making the final arrangements for our transportation"  
>"They're waiting for us, if you're ready"

>Solagne stiffens, takes a deep breath, and nods  
>Charlie swings her hands around from behind her to clap them together in mock-excitement, her expression still disdainful

>"Well then, off we go~"

>"Off we go, esteemed ambassador, off to the realm of _traitors_ , _turncoats_ , and _mutineers_."

>Your sister places a steely emphasis on those last few words to further cut into Heaven's representative

>"I do hope you packed for cold weather"

\---

>Your "transportation" for this occasion isn't one of the vehicles from the usual royal motor pool  
>It's a military vehicle  
>An Overwatch "Crisis Transport", the sort of thing you understand is generally only rolled out in situations where troopers are cleared for "Maximum Sanction"  
>A squad of Overwatch troopers backed up by a few of the higher end Enforcer units flanks the path leading to it  
>Unnecessary, and in somewhat poor taste, but you're sure your sister knows that  
>This is obviously deliberate  
>A little show of force to intimidate your guest, to remind her of the precariousness of her situation down here

>It's working  
>If Solagne weren't already so pale, you'd expect to see the color draining from her face  
>Her body language betrays carefully restrained fear  
>Were it not for Moxxie trailing behind the three of you, blocking the path, she'd probably backpedal right back through the door

>The Overwatch demons salute as you pass them  
>Moxxie salutes back  
>Surprisingly, Solagne follows suit  
>You nod in acknowledgement  
>Charlie remains impassive, well and overly accustomed to the well-coordinated show of obeisance

>The rest of the party boards the vehicle before you do  
>One foot in the door, you turn back and survey the palace  
>Up at one of the windows, you can just barely see the silhouette and reddish eye-glow of Angel Dust  
>The feline shape of Husk and wide, amber eye of Niffty soon join him  
>Ostensibly, the former is only paying a social visit to the latter  
>In reality though...  
>Well, you'll find out how the first steps went after you return from The Ice, and figure out what to do from there

>You right yourself and throw out a proper salute, much sharper than the one you gave in private earlier  
>You face toward the tidy specimen of Hell's military might, but your eyes are on the window, then you duck into the vehicle and take your seat  
>You feel the vehicle move, but hardly hear anything  
>Your traveling companions are likewise silent  
>Charlie stares at Solagne  
>Solagne stares back  
>Moxxie sits back, legs crossed, and minds his own  
>You rest your head against the seat's back and close your eyes  
>It will be a long trip, may as well try to get comfortable

**Author's Note:**

> This was posted here due to some people having difficulty navigating the old pastebin archive/pastebin not being such a great place to save stuff anymore. Not everything made it here; in-thread discussions and other stuff that didn't flow like a standard narrative was left behind. Original links are as follows:
> 
> part 1: https://pastebin.com/LwRxTRNH  
> part 2: https://pastebin.com/7yHcR14j  
> part 3: https://pastebin.com/AfxC5i7f  
> part 4: https://pastebin.com/uHK1m26T  
> Big Brothers is Back - de-conditioning part 1: https://pastebin.com/mW1E0BCD  
> Big Brothers is Back - de-conditioning part 2: https://pastebin.com/T8gpjxCJ  
> DC timeline Octavia: https://pastebin.com/tmxYDp4t  
> Dictator charlie - alt-ending: https://pastebin.com/NREXyytV  
> DC what if part 1: https://pastebin.com/pErwRZ58  
> DC what if part 2: https://pastebin.com/9B0FTHnT  
> Dictator charlie dealing with her inner demons part 1: https://pastebin.com/eKiaizwB  
> Dictator charlie dealing with her inner demons part 2: https://pastebin.com/y2Zrm8e7  
> Dictator charlie dealing with her inner demons part 3: https://pastebin.com/4aCEZ0Nc  
> Timeline shenanigans happens: https://pastebin.com/C1jgFV52  
> Dictator Charlie - Revengance 5000: https://pastebin.com/CpfCQYji  
> Dictator charlie - Lilith is alive: https://pastebin.com/Uxe3mJ2Q  
> Dictator charlie - Vox's hell: https://pastebin.com/BrqsyJAA  
> Dictator Charlie - The Enforcers Of The Queen's Will: https://pastebin.com/gzLaUus8


End file.
